The Cause and Effect Saga - Book 7: The Distance
by Faylinn Night
Summary: Leonardo's harrowing at Black Lotus has left his psyche fractured and his clan torn. He leaves for South America on a sabbatical with little will to heal, but a run-in with tribal chief Coyolxauhqui changes everything. Question is: can he go the distance that's required? Or will the K'ekchi Tribe face extinction? [Leo/OC]
1. Ghosts

**Full Summary:** Sometimes, distance is needed to put life in perspective. The process can be painful, even feel pointless. But new journeys unearth revelations, and taking one with the tribal chief Coyolxauhqui through Ecuador changes Leonardo. Question is: after his harrowing at Black Lotus, can he go the distance that's required? Or will the K'ekchi Tribe face extinction? [BOOK 7]

 **Disclaimer:** TMNT belongs to Eastman, Laird, and Nickelodeon. All OCs belong to me. The K'ekchi Tribe referenced in this book is the name of a real Amazonian tribe. HOWEVER, all representations of said tribe are  fictional, belonging to me. As such, their holidays, language, social structure, religion, and history aren't an accurate representation. Thank you.

 **A/N:** Okay. Here's the deal, guys. This book won't be like my last ones in that it isn't completed beforehand. I'm not sure when it will be. Or if. But hopefully when. I gotta say, it's been hell to work on. I can't even place WHY. But I wanted to kick off this new year by showing you all it HAS been started. I don't often ask this, but any encouraging words or suggestions would be appreciated. Maybe even entice my muse? Something's gotta give. I don't want it to be me... :(

* * *

 **CHAPTER 01:** **GHOSTS**

Much work went into water purification, especially within the Amazon Rainforest. In hindsight, a Solar Still shamed Hamato Leonardo's survival skills. However, the mutant turtle no longer saw its maintenance as difficult or crude or tedious. It simply…was.

He had little else to do. So he found himself consumed by the home-made contraption.

If he wasn't rearranging the plastic sheet over the hole he dug, he was listening for the drips of the condensation beneath it. Chirps from frogs and birds sometimes silenced their fall, but Leo stared so intently at the plastic that he felt the movement like a leaky faucet inside his head. All day.

Michelangelo would've complained about how the process yielded maybe half a water bottle per day. When Leo thought of it that way, it seemed insufficient. But why did he need any more? Black Lotus had conditioned his body. If Kaiya could survive on such little rations, he could as well. Besides, he deserved less…

Leonardo flinched. Something hit his nose, something wet and cold. He glanced up from his Lotus position, starring at the sun rays that streamed through the rainforest's canopy. Soft light reflected off the yellow-green leaves in a hypnotic dance; it almost distracted Leo from the rainfall that drifted through the occasional breaks.

He noticed a faint rumbling too. Had a storm just passed? Maybe it had. Or maybe that was his stomach.

' _When did I last eat?_ ' Leo thought.

Without wiping water from his eyes, he rolled over a slender root protruding from the soil. He hated having to stand; it required so much effort. But since no one else would check his calendar, he rose with a sigh then began searching the lichened tree behind him. There, dark marks marred the moss.

Seven sections of five. Thirty-five sunsets.

Strange. Over a month has passed since the Jonin arrived in Ecuador? A month of sitting, watching the Solar Still? If felt more like a week, and Leo's eye ridges furrowed.

When was his last meal then? He remembered eating three days after leaving New York. If that had been weeks ago…Had he already eaten all the rations Splinter packed for him?

Leonardo turned from the tree. His feet sunk under his weight, an expected side effect from camping so close to a river during the Wet Season. He fought against the slight suction, attention drawn to the tent April had donated on the day of Leo's departure.

It shuddered. Not from the wind; there was no wind inside the humid cocoon on the Amazon's forest floor. The lacking freshness left the air stale and made Leo feel heavy as he ventured around the Solar Still. His eyes remained narrowed until a body emerged from the tent's partially-zipped door—a dark spotted feline no taller than the mutant's knees. Its eyes were wide, and his fanged mouth held the strap of a duffle bag.

"That's mine, Ocelot," Leonardo said. The words hurt his throat like it had been overused instead of underused.

The Ocelot lowered its head, pinning its round ears back as Leo approached. A low growl resonated from it, which grew more severe when Leo lifted his arms.

"I have no idea how much of that is salvageable," he continued, "but I don't have any energy to hunt for dinner."

Like an ocelot cared. The feline hissed, its pink nose scrunched, then darted. Leo dove after it, arms outreached. His fingertips had grazed the bag's coarse fabric before his face met the dirt. He cursed at the sting across his nose, lifting his head to glare at the thief's retreating form.

Just perfect. Guess there'd be no cheese or bread tonight. Not that the cheese would've kept after so long anyways. Unless Leo had already eaten it in his hazy state. Who knew?

Guess the ocelot did…

' _I can't keep anything, can I?_ ' Leonardo thought with clenched teeth.

"Outmaneuvered by a pussy cat, Freak? Now that's just sad."

' _Ugh, not now._ '

Leo stayed on the wet ground, glued there by his sunken stomach. Listless, he craned his neck to glance over his marginal scutes. A brunette man kneeled beside the Solar Still, his hair wild and his athletic build dressed in a white jumpsuit with short sleeves.

"Put the plastic down, Donald," Leo spat.

Donald Horton lifted the plastic cover higher. "You should switch out those leafs, Hombre. They're looking a little brown. And you're remembering to boil the water before drinking it, right? Dysentery ain't fun. Trust me."

"Go. Away."

"And do what?" Donald scoffed, jabbing a thumb sideways. "Play Chinese Checkers with Jackie Chan? Give me a break."

Leo glanced beside the tent. Where the Ocelot had retreated beyond a curtain made from vines, an aged Asian sat Indian Style. His spotted hands rubbed the emaciated leg exposed from his shot-pants, his plump gut expanding the white jumpsuit with a sigh.

"Look how engrossed he is," Donald said with a snort. "How long do ya think it'll be before his son finally joins him? That's what he's waiting on, ya know."

"I know," Leo whispered. He couldn't bring himself to watch Joseph Kim any longer, so he returned his attention to Donald, even if the brunette's smirk made him queasy. "I don't need a reminder."

"You sure? Abi would disagree. Ain't that right, Sweetie?"

Nope; he wouldn't look. Not at her. Leo kept focused on Donald, eyes burning from the rancid perfume scent he knew was Abigail Bryant's decaying flesh. He heard it bubble in his ears, faint pops that soured the smell further.

"We deserve this, remember?" asked Donald. He used a layered voice—as if every Hall F victim spoke through the dead-eyed man. "Can't save anyone. Can't do anything. What a _failure_."

They were right. Why was Leo even alive?

"You should've died with the rest of us," the layered voice continued.

"I know that too," whispered Leo. His head fell into the dirt. Somehow, it felt frigid.

"Didn't I say I'd haunt ya if I died?"

"You…you never believed you'd die, Donald."

Donald smiled. "You remember that much? I'm flattered."

"Please." Leo's eyes watered as the pops grew louder. "Go away."

"We ain't goin' anywhere, mutant. We're ghosts. Your ghosts. And so long as we're stuck here with that bitch and psycho, you'll suffer too."

No. No. No! They weren't here! None of them were!

New adrenaline surged through Leonardo, tingling. He forced himself onto his knees and searched the area. Abigail lay beside him, dark skin purpled and torn—a morbid contrast to her uniform. She gurgled into the soil as Leo overlooked Joseph's checker game and sobbed her daughter's name when he found two figures standing amidst the giant ferns ahead.

A slender scientist raised her horse-face, distant eyes as black as her suit. She shared a smile with a stout Indian man, who barely peered over the full foliage. They laughed, like old friends who'd just exchanged an inside joke. Maybe they had. Maybe the joke was that they still held Leo prisoner, even in death.

"I'm too tired for this," Leonardo muttered at his sweaty palms.

"Too tired?" Donald asked. "Poor baby. Poor Leonardo. Always picked on by the big, bad world. No one is as unfortunate as _you_."

"Shut up." Leo shook with his voice, pressing his palms harder against his wet eyes. "I know it's my fault."

"That's right"—the layered voice returned—"you talked about how we'd be saved. We'd be okay. You _promised_! Well, guess what? We weren't okay. And the ones who did escape? They ain't warriors. What the hell do you think they go through on a daily basis?"

"Shut. Up."

"A couple of runaways, a retard, and a baby? God. They probably would've been better off here with us."

Leo's trembles caused his teeth to chatter, his bones to grow cold, and he cried with a loud voice, "I said _shut up_!"

Instant silence. Then, birds and frogs began chirping again.

Dare he open his eyes? Was it another one of Donald's tricks? He no longer smelled Abigail, so maybe…

Heart thumping, Leonardo looked up. All was still around the jumbled campsite. Not one impression remained—not by the tent where Joseph had sat or beside Leo where Abigail had curled up. Even the Solar Still's plastic sheet looked untouched. Because it had been, no matter what Leo swore he saw.

The Jonin heaved a sigh then staggered up. His weak legs brought him to the Still, which he stared at blankly for…he wasn't sure how long. By the time he remembered his goal, he was kneeling again, and water dripped heavily from the rainforest canopy. The drops pitter-pattered against the plastic sheet that he peered under.

The leaves in the hole were brown. Withered. Dead. How long had they been dead?

Crack!

"Damn roots!"

Leonardo stiffened at a man's voice. It wasn't Donald or Joseph. Not Chandler or Doctor Stephens. It was unfamiliar, so he made quick work towards his signature tree when a female chimed in,

"Hiking's healthy, Xander."

"Whatever."

"Think of it this way: your lady back home will appreciate the extra effort."

"Liz could care less how toned I am."

"That's not what you told Murphy."

Two people—dressed in Military Green uniforms—stopped along the path Leonardo had leveled over the weeks. It led to a nearby river, although the humans seemed more interested in sending each other pointed looks than in following it.

The man, Xander, scratched at the high-collar that seamlessly joined his helmet. While the tinted glass that shielded his eyes made it impossible to discern an expression, Leo sensed him glance over the rifle strapped to the back of his bullet-proof vest. "You've been spying on me during leave, Beverly?"

"Please; it's hardly spying," Beverly shot back. Judging by the condemnation in her voice, she probably rolled her eyes when she shuffled. "Both Murphy and Evens got big mouths. Besides, almost all of us go to Mashers when possible."

Evens and Murphy? Why did those names sound familiar?

"I don't remember seeing you there, but whatever," Xander said. "Let's just focus on perimeter duty. If we return with more incomplete reports, Rook will have our heads."

"Correction: your head. I'm here only because Quincy is under reprimand. Tomorrow, you'll have your old partner back, and I'll return to the front lines. Where I belong."

"Why would you _want_ to be there?" Suddenly, the air grew thick. "I—I've seen the soldiers that come back. Why would you _risk_ becoming a vegetable?"

"Uh"—Beverly shrugged—"there's no one at home for me? I got nothing better in my life? War fuels my blood?"

"Seriously!"

The woman stepped towards Xander, swatting away the finger he directed at her. "I am serious, Idiot! This fight has been going on longer than I've been alive. My parents were part of it. They lived for it. Died for it. And I'll follow in their footsteps."

"Right…" With a sigh, Xander glanced away. "I forgot about your parents."

"Clearly," Beverly countered. "Now let's get back to work. I'm bored enough as it is."

Xander side-stepped as Beverly stormed passed him. He braced himself for the shove she gave his shoulder then followed her down the path. Only crunches from their footfalls sounded then—until they faded under the Rainforest's song

Leonardo was left stiff beside the tree, fingers scraping the moss along its bark. Who were those people? Ecuador Guerillas fighting with indigenous tribes? Probably not. They were speaking English without any effort, fault, or accent. And it sounded like they were expanding their territory.

Perfect.

' _Guess I'm moving,_ ' Leo thought.

He glanced over his campsite and broke apart the loose moss in his hand. Maybe moving wouldn't be so bad. He needed to clean the place up anyway…

* * *

 **A/N:** So...there's that. This story will cover over a year of Leo's life. Expect pacing to be more like " _Shift_ " until a certain point.


	2. Time

**A/N:** I meant to post this chapter on Feb 1. Life happened, though. Sorry. My goal is to update this story once a month while it's still a work in progress. Once it's finished, I'll update once a week or day or...something. Either way, more frequently.

 _Sciencegal_ \- He does. Even if he doesn't believe he does for, like, months. XD

 _Zathura_ \- Thanks. It is hard subject matter to deal with...but I'm still pushing through. Things will look up for Leo soon (ish).

 _DuckiePray_ \- Writing this story is like cuddling a porcupine. XP Thanks for the thoughtful review, Dear. As always. *hugs*

* * *

 **CHAPTER 02:** **TIME**

What day was it? What time? Or month? Leonardo no longer knew. He frowned, his legs shifting through broad, withered leaves. Had it been long since he left New York? How were his brothers fairing in his absence? Better? Worse? Were they patrolling?

' _Sensei said they wouldn't, but I know Mike and Raph._ '

They'd be out. Why? Because they still held onto the ludicrous belief that their heroic acts would bring about a brighter future. Donny did too, although it was unlikely he'd disobey.

' _Not to mention he's probably busy defending Gray._ '

A jolt hit Leo so suddenly, his fingers scraped his kneepads. He heard the cyborg's cold voice in his head and recalled the dead way she watched the prisoners inside Hall F.

' _That bitch brought us there._ _She…she—_ '

She tossed him into a cage. She helped Lombardo strap him to table after table. She watched the needle break his skin, the pain fill his veins. She heard his screams, Kaiya's sobs, but she did nothing to help. And Donny called her 'wife'?

Bullshit!

Shaking, Leonardo snatched up an object beside him and then hurled it across the campsite. A crack followed—like the fracturing of a wooden plank split by a punch. Its familiarity eased the mutant's scowl. He cursed, now realizing what he had thrown.

' _Mike's_ _gonna_ _freak,_ ' Leo thought with a sigh.

He stumbled towards a damaged box that spewed writing materials onto the damp, forest floor. Its splintered wood drew bright lines through the designs etched into its dark-wash stain. Leo gathered it and began to shove the lid into the tracks where it belonged. It wouldn't fit.

' _He put so much work into this, even before…_ ' Leo sighed, eyeing the box's designs. ' _That day feels like forever ago. And despite everything back then, with The Shredder, life was simpler. It was just us, Casey, and April._ '

It had been the most memorable Mutation Day the Hamato brothers ever had, especially for Leonardo…

* * *

 _Leonardo rubbed his temples, but no matter how much pressure he applied, they still pulsed._

" _Dude"—Michelangelo's voice echoed through the tunnels—"did you see the look on that Foot's face? I didn't even need to pull out my big guns."_

" _You can't see a Foot's expression, Mikey," Donatello said._

" _No masks, Dumbass," Raphael added with a scoff._

" _Language," said Leo over his shoulder. Raph kicked the water the ninjas waded through. A chill wetted Leo's calves, a provocation the leader chose to ignore._

" _You dudes have no imagination," Mikey said. He raced forward, using the tunnel's wall as leverage to flip ahead of the group. He then started walking_ _backward_ _. "Tell 'em, Leo: that Foot was totally about to pee his pants. You were there. You took him down."_

 _Leo sent the orange-masked mutant a pointed stare. "I was focused more on the dozen other soldiers that ambushed us."_

" _But he was gawking!"_

" _You can't see a gawk through a mask," Don hissed. The genius huffed as Leo sent him a calming gesture._

" _That Foot Soldier was one of many," Leo told Mikey. "You'd understand that if you'd been paying attention to the bigger picture."_

 _Mikey groaned. "Small details make up the bigger picture. I can't believe you didn't see it."_

" _We're not Genin anymore. Alright? We're Chūnin. And battles aren't a playground."_

" _So ya wanna suck the fun outta fightin' too?" asked Raph. The water sloshed behind Leo. "Figures."_

" _Warring against Shredder isn't a game!" Leo cried. He whirled to meet the hothead's glare, shoulders squared._

" _No one said it was," Don added. His bō staff cut off his older brothers' staring contest, drawing attention to his gap-tooth smile. "Mike does have a point, though."_

 _Mikey snorted, saying, "Naturally!"_

 _Don sighed. "Don't make it worse. Now, Leo. You've been a little, uh—"_

" _Oh, I'll say it," Raph interjected. He stormed through the water, shoved Don aside, and then jabbed a finger at the leader's plastron. "Ya've been a damn drill sergeant!"_

" _For your own good," Leo said. "Victory favors the prepared."_

" _We're prepared enough, Fearless. Don't ya trust_ _us ta_ _handle ourselves?"_

" _You're all strong."_

" _So why not let us be?"_

" _It has nothing to do with—I just—" Leo rubbed his neck. "Look. You're less likely to_ _get_ _hurt if you stay_ _vigilant_ _. Consider the bigger picture."_

" _Just what is the bigger picture?" asked Mikey._

 _Glancing sideways, Leo caught his youngest brother's gentle expression. Of_ _course,_ _Mike sensed the leader's fear. He always did._

" _Shredder's a bad dude," Mikey continued. "We get that. But I ain't_ _gonna_ _let some buckethead hamper my fun. You shouldn't either."_

" _We are only as strong as our spirit," whispered Leo._

" _And our spirits shine like stars. Everything will be okay, Bro. Now let's_ _make like bananas and split_ _. It's our Mutation Day."_

" _I ain't in any mood_ _ta_ _party," Raph said._

" _Me either," Don added, slumping. "I want a nap. Then maybe I'll run an analysis on—"_

 _Mikey pointed at his brothers as they began moving down the tunnel again. "Uh-uh! No boxing time. No meditation. And no locking yourself in the Lab. I've blistered my hands while perfecting your gifts, and you're_ _gonna_ _get them. Today. We may also eat cake, depending on how many eggs we have. I think we need more. Have you asked April about that, Donny?"_

 _Don's cheeks darkened. "Wh—why me?"_

 _Raph shared a smirk with Mikey then jabbed his lankier bother with an elbow. "Ya only call her every chance ya get, Genius."_

" _Do not."_

" _Oh, April, your voice is so silky," Mikey said in a high tone._

 _Sniggering, Raph also heightened his voice, "Let me ramble on about nerd things while I pretend I ain't substitutin' Chemistry for—"_

" _Enough," Leonardo cut in. Seriously; this was the group meant to take down The Shredder? Heaven,_ _help_ _them._

" _For your information, I haven't talked with April much," Don said. "The store's growing in popularity, and she's been hanging with Casey. I barely got to mention our Mutation Day."_

" _Really? Did you tell her the date?"_

 _Don shook his head at Mike. "I mentioned it in passing."_

" _Aw, seriously? I thought for sure you would've jumped at the chance for her to shower you with gifts."_

" _Get real."_

" _Oh, I'm real. This is our first Mutation Day with friends we can_ _invite,_ _and no one cares?"_

" _Sorry, Mike. We're used to birthdays being…"_

 _Don trailed off, so Raph added, "Borin'."_

" _It's like any other day," Leo finished._

" _What audacity," said Mike. Head shaking, he set his arms akimbo as Leo stepped ahead._

 _The leader pulled the lever that opened their home's entrance. He started to smile, but then a thundering, unified cheer resonated from inside the Lair. Leonardo adopted a defensive stance. His Katanas clanked when their edges crossed, their steel ready for action._

 _Was it an enemy? Had the Lair been compromised? He glared. If it was an invasion, it was an odd one._

 _Inside, streamers spread from column to column in red, orange, blue, and purple drapes. They enclosed a group within the living room, who whooped as a rain of balloons descended. Leo caught Splinter's smile through the slow-floating bubbles, glancing up at what his father pointed towards. A banner was strung along the ceiling. Its words were unmistakable: Happy Sweet Sixteen._

" _What?" Michelangelo screeched. "Guys. Guys! This is a surprise party. A real surprise party. Like on TV. For us!"_

" _Thanks, Captain Obvious," Raphael said. He sounded breathy while holstering his sais, a testament to his own shock._

" _April,_ _did—did you…?" Donatello stepped forward, bō staff in hand._

 _The redhead chuckled. "Well," she said, "you mentioned a birthday, so I made a few calls." She gestured towards the group, where a line of grins followed from Splinter and Casey to Leatherhead, Silver Sentry, and even—_

" _Usagi-san?" Leo asked._

" _It is a pleasure to see you again, Leonardo-san," the humanoid rabbit replied with a bow. "I believe the proper Earth custom is to say 'Happy Mutation Day'?"_

 _Leo gave a lopsided smile. "Well, most would say 'Happy_ _Birthday.'_ _We're, uh, a little different, though."_

" _Yes,_ _" Usagi smirked. "I know."_

" _Wait, wait, wait,_ _wait!_ _" Mikey yelled. The crowd grew silent as they turned to the youngest mutant. "Ape, you're telling me you planned a party with not only a famous_ _superhero_ _but someone from another dimension as well?"_

" _That was all Splinter, honestly," April said._

" _However, it was O'Neil-san's idea," Splinter countered._

" _I cannot stay very long," Usagi added, "but I am curious about this Mutation Day."_

" _We can show you how to party, Usagi Dude," Mikey said, laughing. The rabbit had_ _quirked_ _an eyebrow before Mike moved onto Silver Sentry. "Silver, my man. Ready to reveal your secret identity yet?"_

 _Silver Sentry crossed his_ _massive_ _arms. "Not today. But perhaps soon."_

" _Oh my_ _God_ _." Mikey gripped the super human's forearms and paled. "No lie?"_

 _Whatever the hero's answer, Leonardo ignored it. He sheathed his katanas then glossed over the decorations again—this time noting the detailed work that had gone into their arrangement._

" _Like it?"_

 _Leo faced April. "How long did this take?"_

" _Not long. Silver Sentry makes for light work."_

" _Isn't it a little much?"_

" _No. You're sixteen."_

" _It's just a number. Humans only make big deals about it because it means someone's old enough to drive."_

" _And you guys have been_ _driving_ _for, what, two years? You should've had one of these ages ago."_

" _We didn't know anyone else that long ago."_

" _See?" April's sharp yet sincere tone tore Leo away from the chattering group by the kitchen. "That's exactly why I did this. You have friends, Leo. Friends share in celebrations."_

" _But our mutation isn't Christmas or—"_

" _Oh, shut up." The redhead grinned. "When Donny mentioned your Mutation Day like a doctor appointment, it—it unsettled me. You should be excited. So here I am."_

" _All of this, for us?"_

" _Is it that weird?" April's grin fell as Leo stiffened. "I was alone once. Never knew my Mom then Dad died"—she hissed—"way too soon. I loathed the idea of living with Robyn, so I stayed here. Can't help feeling that was fate. Life's been hectic ever since you saved me_ _from Stockman's Mousers._ _But know what?"_

 _Leonardo shook his head._

" _I feel more complete," April continued. "Not quite whole, but…having brothers has been a nice change of pace."_

 _Hold up. Did_ _April_ _say 'brothers'? Or had Mikey's squeals finally botched Leo's hearing? He tapped his ear to test it, and April chuckled._

" _Come on, Fearless Leader," she said, turning, "we have plenty_ _planned,_ _and Usagi is on a time crunch."_

 _Leonardo watched her address everyone, unready for movement._

 _The gravity in her words evaded her, didn't it? Before last year, a human had never called Leo a friend, let alone a brother. Was it possible that mutants and_ _mankind_ _could become families? Could_ _people in the_ _future accept the_ _Hamatos_ _as well? Perhaps even…love them?_

 _Leo's logic told him that would be expecting too much and he agreed. For now, he'd focus on April—the first person who he could call_ _'sister.'_

* * *

Leonardo smiled at the memory. He'd been so happy back then, before the failures, before—

' _No!_ ' Leo clenched the splintered box in his lap. ' _Don't let the ghosts return. I gotta do something. Anything. Maybe…_ '

The mutant glanced downwards. Scattered materials from the box lay on the dirt, not far from reach. Usually, sleep was his excuse to avoid them. Yet writing home seemed like a grand escape today. He readied the necessities atop the broken box's bottom side. The ink was soiled, the brushes dusty, and the parchment stained, but who cared?

It mattered about as much as a date.


	3. Rage

**A/N:** Here ya go! On time. If my net holds out. XD

 _ZathuraRoy_ \- Leo needs some cute memories...to make up for the what's to come... *shifty eyes*

 _Sciencegal_ \- Much easier said than done. Ya know? Writing Leo has been so painful. ; _;

 _efarraiz_ \- Gosh, Dear, I don't speak Spanish. But I got a friend who helped translate.  
First, Thank you! Glad to hear you like the story so far. I was worried it'd be a bore for others. LOL.  
Secondly, to know what trauma Leo is working through, you must read "Book 2: Hollow Hearts".  
Thirdly, my updates will be slow but consistent. It'll pick up (posting wise) if I ever finish the story over the Spring or Summer seasons..

Thanks for the faves, reads, and reviews, guys. It helps.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 03:** **RAGE**

The various chirps throughout the rainforest made Leonardo's eyes flutter. No! His head jerked up.

' _Can't sleep,_ ' he thought. ' _My food is gone. I must eat something before…_ '

"Before what, Freak?" Donald asked.

Leo resituated his katanas, saying, "Not now, Donald."

"Or what? I'll spook the game?" Donald laughed—a boisterous act which would've scared any prey if he could be heard. "Why bother? It's not like ya got an appetite."

True. But Leo couldn't live off grubs and herbs much longer.

"The skies haven't been this clear in days," a second man said. "Can you blame him for wanting a proper meal?"

Scowling, Leo kept focused on the coarse texture of his katana's Tsuka Ito and the moist soil he knelt in. Still, Joseph's Chi felt as blatant as Donald's.

"Who knows when the storm will resume?" asked Joseph. "Now is his best chance."

"And what will he find, Jackie Chan? Another Ocelot?" Donald snorted. "He ain't got the balls to eat a cat."

Normally, no. Circumstances had changed, however. Wet Season made for poor hunting conditions. Leo may have no choice except kill whatever living thing came his way.

"The thought boils yer blood, don't it?"

Leonardo sent Donald a glare. "I'm fine."

Donald smirked. "Says the guy who talks to himself. How dumb do ya think I am? I'm part of ya, Freak. I know."

"You don't know anything."

"Even Jackie Chan realizes the truth."

Joseph met Leo's eyes with a pitiful stare. The mutant hated it.

"Ya wanna believe ya've given up on emotions," said Donald, breathy. "That's a lie. There's a rage inside. And ya've been surpressin' it so long, it's scary."

Leo swung his katana sideways, despite knowing he could never cut Donald. "I'm not scared!" he cried.

The wild-haired man grinned. "It's like a molten sphere inside yer chest. It burns. But ya ignore it. Why?"

Leonardo ignored Donald. He lowered his stance and poised his katanas when the ferns ahead rustled. Nothing emerged.

"Just the wind?" Donald asked.

"There is no wind," Joseph said.

Leo whirled as the rustling moved behind him. "Will you two shut up?"

Donald waved an arm. "Ya sure the noise is even real? Ya _are_ kind'a crazy."

More rustles sounded as Leo shook his head. What if Donald was right? What if the movements were a lie, even partially? Or worse, what if they weren't?

"That's right, Freak, panic. Maybe it's a Panther, and ya'll be as helpless with it as ya were at Black Lotus, eh?"

Leo licked his dry lips. His katana blades clanked against one another, the metallic noise resonating through his tense muscles.

"How the tables have turned," Donald added. His words were almost drowned out by Leo's erratic heartbeat. "Our hunter has become the hunted. Or _has_ he?"

Every plant around Leonardo erupted with life. He rooted himself at the commotion's center and readied his weapons. The leaves shook faster. The ground tilted. Then, a distant rumble silenced the rainforest. Leo fell on a knee when someone parted the ferns and vines. Doctor Daniel Stephens. The fat Indian stood, humor spread across his hairy face.

What right did he have to smile? To look at Leo with those eyes? They were shriveled and dark and yet twinkled with pleasure. Disgusting.

"What are you doing here?" Leo whispered.

Doctor Stephens kept smiling, despite the mutant's growl.

"Huh?" Leo asked. "Wh—why are you following me? What the hell do you want?" Each question was met with silence, and Leo's self-control wavered like his unsteady blades. "Do you know what you've done? How many lives Black Lotus destroyed? You—" The mutant drew in a shuddering breath, directing his katana's tip at Doctor Stephens. "I don't understand. How could your sick company have gotten away with so much? Fuck, you took a child. Kaiya didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve…"

* * *

 _Short fingers reached for him at an awkward angle. He studied them with a heavy_ _heart,_ _and when her sobs increased, he reached out as well._

" _Now"—Stephens' voice quickened Leonardo's pulse—"time for science!"_

* * *

The memory sent chills through Leo. He gulped then straightened his posture when Stephens stepped forward.

"Well?" the mutant asked. "Answer me!"

With the same smile, Stephens charged. The doctor's stout body slammed Leonardo's blades against his plastron, flooring him. Leo sunk into the ground and growled as he freed one katana. Its edge sliced the fat Indian across the face, rousing a pig-like squeal.

Good.

Leo staggered up as Stephens rubbed his face, saying, "How's it feel, Doctor? Does it burn?"

Stephens screeched then charged again—this time with enough force to slam the mutant against a tree. Leo grunted, unprepared for the third charge that knocked him breathless and left black spots across his vision.

* * *

 _When the progress reached Abigail's forearm, it stopped. The glow dimmed then faded, leaving behind a reddish color like her rash. The woman's cries died down. Yet how?_

 _The new growth retracted as if it had been bathed in acid. A familiar stench seeped into the air—rancid meat dipped in perfume—and he could hear the sizzling of muscle and skin dissolving._

* * *

Leo rolled over a gnarled root and gasped. A sting across his thigh gave him pause, but Stephens' squeal made him gather his weapons and stand.

* * *

 _Their eyes connected. It didn't_ _need to be said_ _. Joseph was_ _sure_ _of his fate._

 _Like Abigail had been._

* * *

Footfalls thumped behind Leo, almost like a galloping horse. How close was the madman? He glanced over his shoulder. Stephens advanced on all fours with inhuman speed and agility.

* * *

 _Donald never passed Stephens. His shoe lifted then sunk back into place, its top splattered with red spots. A gargle sounded in his throat as Stephens retracted a blade, and when Donald collapsed, the wound across his torso gushed. His blood bubbled like popping lava. Stunk, too._

 _But pride kept the brunette silent._

* * *

Leo met the doctor's snarl. Then, the molten anger inside his chest burst. It ignited his veins with such heat, he felt cramped inside his own body. He spun and roared before lodging both katana blades in Doctor Stephens' torso.

* * *

 _Chandler laughed until the noise sounded like a hacking cat. "We're all looking for happiness," he said. "But it's like…chasing rainbows. You find it…over the rainbow…"_

 _A long sigh drifted through Hall F. Then, utter silence. And Leonardo couldn't lift his head._

* * *

Blood coated Leo's forearms, its warmth a stark contrast to the cool mud he slid through. It made no difference; the mutant pulled out one katana then sunk it into Doctor Stephens time and time again.

* * *

" _Tools should sit quietly!" Stephens yelled. He managed a right hook as Leo twisted the syringe out of his grasp._

 _The Jonin glared, saying, "We aren't tools!" He lifted his body and back-handed the doctor so hard, blood flew. The doctor chortled when the mutant's fist met its mark a second time. "What's so funny?"_

 _Eyes wide, Stephens said, "You think you'll win. I don't lose."_

* * *

But the madman had lost. He lost everything: that fight, his building, his research, his life. So why linger?

"Just die!" Leonardo screamed. "Die already, and leave me the fuck _alone_!"

The mutant drove his katana downwards with all his might. It cracked like thunder and Leonardo shivered from a sudden chill. Was he…wet? Another cracking sound brought Leo back to reality and the rainfall. He glanced at the red-tainted water that pooled around him then ahead. He froze.

His weapons were embedded not in an illusion, but in a boar. Its corpse was torn, matted, and wreaked of bile. Had he done that? Had he…?

Leo glanced over the entrails that slipped from the boar's mutilated gut, nauseated by its heat.

"Now who's the monster, Freak?"

Leo scrambled away, eyes focused on his red-coated hands. Such dirty things shouldn't touch him. Neither should his katanas.

' _Why did I do that? Why did I…?_ '

"What did I tell ya about that rage?"

"Shut up!" Leo cried. His chin wavered as sobs bubbled in his throat.

What should he do? What could he do?


	4. Iron

**A/N:** Surprise? Heh. I'm just ready to wrap up the 'intro'. After this, the set-up is complete and we meet Coyo. Then others.C:

 _Sciencegal_ and _ZathuraRoy_ , thanks for bearing with me. It'll pay off; I swear.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 04: I** **RON**

Michelangelo's hand felt small inside Leonardo's hold. Why? They were the same age—nine years—although Leo was considered the eldest. That made him bigger, in a way. Not more important, but destined to guide his brothers.

Like Captain Ryan from Space Heroes!

"Ow," Mikey whined.

Leo glanced behind him then loosed his hand. "So—sorry, Mikey," he said. "I was just thinking about—"

"Space Heroes?"

Leo formed a lopsided smile as his brother yawned, noting how the youngest's feet shuffled through the tunnel water.

"Where are we going anyway?" Mikey asked.

"Well, sometimes nightmares get better if you watch something else before falling sleep again."

"So you're dragging me through tunnels?"

"Just a few."

Mikey groaned then pulled backward. "My feet are cold."

"It's summer. The water isn't that bad."

"Says you! Jeez. Maybe I should've woke Raphy instead…"

Despite a frown, Leo kept a hold of Mikey's sweaty fingers. ' _He'll feel better once he sees the sky._ '

"Are we there yet, Leo?"

"Actually, yes."

The duo stopped at a large grate. It was rusted, and slime grew over the metal where water flowed through. Beyond that, though, laid an open cityscape. Slowly, Michelangelo's grip loosened. He stepped ahead, eyes round.

"Wow," he whispered.

"Pictures don't do it justice, huh?" asked Leonardo.

"Dude!" Mikey leaped towards the bars, fingers curling around their thickness. "Homes can get that high?"

Leo had no idea which building was in question. They all seemed fit for the clouds.

"It—it's so different from the movies, Leo."

"Yeah," Leo said. "Speaking of, you should cut back on the scary films."

"I like scary movies." Mikey sighed then rested his forehead against the bars. "It—it was just that one. I didn't…I—I—I didn't like the brothers dying."

"I know; I saw you crying." Leo shoved his brother in play. Only, the youngest's gaze remained fixed on the gurgling water flow. "Mikey?"

"You—you'd never leave me like Brad did Conner, right?"

"Mike," Leo placed a hand on Mikey's shoulder, "it was just a movie."

"But you _wouldn't_ , right?"

The fear in Michelangelo's voice seemed both unusual and offensive. Did he doubt their bond? How come? Leo remained speechless, limp for when Mikey wrapped him in a strong hug.

"Th—that can't happen," Mikey said. "Not ever. We have to stick together!"

"We will. Mike"—Leo fought against his trembles to return the hug—"we're brothers. I'll protect you. Always. I promise."

"Then," Mikey sniffled, and his voice darkened, "where were you when Bishop took me?"

* * *

Leonardo jerked sideways. He could fall no further than the rainforest floor, but his stomach somersaulted all the same. He heaved, gasped, and then licked his lips. They tasted like iron.

Another bloody nose? Perfect. He hadn't lost enough bodily fluids over the months. Or was it years? Days? Who cared? Even his dreams lacked a sense of time. Recently, they had even shown an interest in tossing him back into his childhood. Or some twisted version of it…

"There ain't any versions of the truth," a gravelly voice said.

Raph? Wait. No.

Leonardo avoided the white jumpsuit in his peripheral vision. He kept quiet, staggering towards the pitiful basin used for water storage.

"Ignorin' me works about as well as ignorin' the truth."

Leo cupped the water then wetted his nose as Donald snorted.

"Yer bro made a point, oh Fearless Leader. Ya dish out all these promises that ya never keep. Why try?"

' _Focus on the iron,_ ' Leo thought. He rubbed his nose and mouth, tasting metal and salt. ' _If there's only iron, there's no room_ _for—'_

"Still tryin' that trick? It won't work."

"Yet," Leo whispered. His word stung, much like his nose.

"Nightmares sure take their toll, huh?" With a laugh, Donald approached. "Bet ya wake up feelin' like road kill. But ya're lucky. Ya _get_ to wake up."

Iron, Leo. Iron.

"Iron, Leo, iron," Donald mocked. "Fine, let's talk about iron. Or metal in general. Like the kind that Lombardo cut you with. The kind ya promised to release me from. The kind Joseph had stared at before he said adios. Or maybe ya'd like the think about the metal that Bishop grafted into Michelangelo's shins, just to see if the Mutagen would adapt."

Leo's fingers cupped his mouth then squeezed.

"Daddy dearest said the incident was best left forgotten, for poor Mikey's sake," Donald continued, "but how long will it be before his 'biotic shins' turn against him? Arthritis is a bitch. If he grows crippled?" Donald clicked his tongue. "Man, to think it'd be because ya waited to bring him back home."

"He wasn't supposed—" Leo swallowed. "He shouldn't have been topside."

"But ya knew he was up there."

"As soon as Don told me, I—"

"Finished yer TV show, right? 'The idiot will be okay for a few more minutes.' Sound familiar?"

Leo shook his head.

"If ya say so." Damn the amusement in the brunette's tone. "But it doesn't matter if ya're quick or slow to act, I guess. Everyone around ya is just screwed. Even animals, it seems. Poor, poor little piggy."

"Fuck off, Donald!" Leo cried. He snatched up the basin then tossed it. Anything for silence. He raked the ground, panting. It left his head spinning, and he swore the ferns reached for him. He stumbled backward, blinked, but they kept lengthening their tendrils.

Shit. He needed out. He needed—

Leo looked up. Sunlight dotted the green canopy like pinpoints, and the mutant felt through the whirling shapes that distorted his vision to find the closest tree. He scrambled upwards—who knows how—until the pinpoints blossomed into a yellow and orange sky.

Breathing came easier when Leo settled onto a branch, and his muscles relaxed as he inhaled the warm breeze. ' _I'm this close to the river?_ ' he thought. ' _Whenever I walk, it seems far away._ '

Yet there it was, so close he could almost jump into it. It mirrored the sunrise with an intensity that would make artists cry.

' _Nia would've liked this. If I had a camera…_ '

Who was he kidding? He had neither the will nor perception for photography. Hell, he wasn't even sure if the moisture across his face was sweat, blood, or water.

' _I'm a psychotic mess._ ' Leo's eyes lowered from the sky to its reflection. ' _What am I doing? What's the point? Sensei, this isn't what I thought it'd be. It's just as bad as New York. I can't sleep or eat. My mind is against me and_ _I_ _'_ _m—_ '

Being punished. It's what he deserved, but how much longer could he endure? Why would he want to? His family was better off without him anyway.

Leonardo scanned the water's surface then the shorter tree tops around him.

To think, a fall from this height could silence the ghosts forever. Just one slip would end the torture. Still, was he brave enough to make that jump, to relinquish his last bit of control?

"Dammit," Leo hissed. He lifted an arm when something stung his neck, but the limb felt heavy. It hit his plastron, muscles twitching.

' _What the hell?_ '

The mutant scowled as a tickle trailed over his shoulder. A slender-legged spider crawled down his unresponsive arm. It lingered atop his hand, fangs near his skin.

"You wouldn't," Leo started.

The spider bit down. Instant pain erupted beneath the bite, rousing goosebumps across his body. He slipped from the branch, incapable of screaming, and met the tree base at a speed that left loud snaps in his ears and blackened his vision.


	5. Found

**A/N:** Yeah...

 _Zathura_ , Leo doesn't get a break, aside from literal ones. LOL *Bricked*

 _Guest_ , Yes, yes it does

 _Sciencegal_ , I'm sure Leo and that spider have a mutual dislike for each other. HAHA.

 _Duckie_ , welcome back. Leo has so much wrong going for him, OTL. But things will start turning around; you'll see.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 05:** **FOUND**

Xander Hyde had no qualms with his new assignment. In fact, he saw perimeter duty as a blessing. It gave the EPF agent a moment for reflection. And complaints.

"Damn Quincy," he said. "And damn Rook."

Honestly; anyone could've made the same mistake. Their dictator for a boss enforces two-day work shifts then expects his underlings to be fully alert?

Xander rolled his eyes, grumbling, "Man, I can't wait until next rotation."

"Think next shift will be any better, Xan? Knowing your luck, you'll join Bev on the front lines."

Xander grimaced. "What do you want, Quincy?"

Quincy Noel chuckled. "Come on, Dude. You ain't still mad, are ya?" Quincy joined Xander along the forest's path, his brown skin shimmering with oil and sweat. "Grow some balls. It was light teasing, at worst."

"At worst?" Xander parroted. "Rook extended my stay because _you_ wouldn't shut up about me falling asleep. Gracias, Man."

"No need to whine."

"Why are you even here? My headache's bad enough."

"Like it or not, I'm staying. Rook doesn't trust"—Quincy paused with a smirk—"well, you."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"I'm more of a messenger, actually. Bossman sent you out here in hopes a Panther would maul you or hurl you from the Safe Zone. You know that, right?"

"Like it matters."

"It matters. You have enough things in Ecuador that wanna kill ya."

"And that bothers you? Why?"

"Because we're buddies?"

Xander scoffed. "Spare me."

"I'm trying!" Quincy sported a broad smile—a youthful look for a guy who'd lived well into his forties. "Listen, I met Liz last time we were on leave."

"You _met_ Liz?"

"Don't say that like I mean her harm."

"Why would she meet _you_?"

"Because she's worried. Regulations prevent you from telling her details, but she's smart enough to understand that no one's 'okay' in a war."

Xander's bad leg folded and he braced against a tree to keep upright. "She has enough worries."

"Leukemia."

Xander's leg twitched again. "She told you."

"She's a nice, honest lady."

"Too nice. And too honest."

There was a pause as Quincy's smile died. "You're fighting here when you wanna be fighting beside her. Medical research at The Island has been setback ever since the Kingston mishap, but I'm sure Bishop's—"

"Return to HQ, Agent Noel," Xander spat.

"Dude—"

"We're _not_ discussing this. I can handle my own shit."

"Really?"

"Sí!" Twisting, Xander met Quincy with a frown. The darker man quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

"Alright, Mister Can-Handle-My-Own-Shit, notice anything?"

"Like?"

Quincy gestured around. The sour scent of urine had stricken Xander before he noticed a sizable clearing. He stood with Quincy in its center, at the crossroads of a dilapidated tent, Solar Still, and underused fire pit.

"Another camp?" Xander asked.

"Not tribal," Quincy added. "Everything's modern."

"Researcher?"

"Can't be. Researchers check in with Rook. Been that way for decades. If we didn't know about this place…"

Xander knelt at the tent, peering inside. "Doesn't seem military."

"That's a plus. Still, Rook will hate the idea of any interference. The big-wig's already had one meltdown this year."

"He'll catch Rizzo sooner or later," Xander muttered. He pulled out a duffle bag from the tent to rummage inside it.

"Anything good, Xan?"

"Candy wrappers. A broken box. Papers. Kneepads? Wait." Something smooth yet bubbly caught Xander's attention. He pulled out what resembled a turtle-shell-shaped phone, and his eyes widened.

"How come that's familiar?" questioned Quincy.

"Mutants," Xander answered.

"Say again?"

"We've heard about them, but I never thought we'd—"

"Hold it. You mean the 'Palermo-like mutants' or the 'stop us at every turn' mutants? The ones from New York."

"You attended the same seminars I did. How can you not recognize this technology?"

"I slept."

Xander shook his head, clenching the cell phone. ' _Maybe my luck is turning around_ ,' he thought. ' _If I find the mutant before the others, maybe Rook will let me leave this hell hole. But the question becomes…where the did he go in such a hurry?_ '

* * *

"Cō-hōl-shall-ski."

Coyolxauhqui heard her name punctuated and flinched. She knew the person behind her was neither her brother nor any disproving Elder. Still, she faced her best friend with a sheepish grin.

"Yes, Iz-ehl?" she asked.

Izel puckered her blue lips, a hand on her breechcloth's belt. "Where are you going with so many Tetani leaves? Someone injured?"

"Oh, these?"

"No, the herbs in your _other_ basket."

Coyolxauhqui forced a chuckle, hoping her voice would not wake those slumbering in the straw hut beside her

"Coyo"—Izel's pucker turned into a smirk—"let me join."

"No! I mean, you cannot."

Izel looked unconvinced. Naturally; she had spent her whole life fighting what was expected of her.

"Are you betraying me?" Izel asked.

"Yes and no," Coyo answered. "An animal needs help."

"What sort of animal?"

"A...big one."

"How big?"

"Big enough to require many Tetani leaves."

"And I cannot join because?"

"You make animals uncomfortable?"

Sighing, the younger tribeswoman approached Coyo to grab her free hand, saying, "Please tell me this creature is not another Mizton. Or something worse."

"Since when has danger worried you, Izzy?"

"What worries me are the Elders. Any scrutiny towards me is worsened by your actions. And I see no reason why. I am not Chieftain."

"Neither am I," Coyo whispered. She swallowed, reclaiming her hand. "Perhaps our Elders would be more lenient if you grew back your hair."

"Were my hair long again, it would only snag on trees. Like yours." Izel chuckled as Coyo combed her wild tresses. The older woman pulled out several leaves and felt a twig buried somewhere at the base of her neck.

"Izel, please," Coyo said, "keep this secret."

"Is the animal a threat?" Izel narrowed her bright eyes as if they could physically squeeze a guarantee from Coyolxauhqui.

"No," answered Coyo.

"Honest?"

"Honest. So if Huitzi wishes to know my whereabouts, tell him I am visiting Huelicha." Coyo clasped her hands then pouted. When Izel waved in submission, she hugged her friend. "Thank you!"

"I have a request, however."

"Oh?" Coyo stepped back and knew what Izel's grin meant. "As you wish. You may come in the future, but the animal—"

"Is no threat. You said."

"I did. But that may change once he wakes. He has been sorely beaten."

"Abused, accident, or mauled?"

"Possibly a mix. His bones are broken, and he has bite marks. Give me until the moon is halved. Let me earn his trust."

"Our great Coyolxauhqui," Izel said. "The first to aid anyone."

Coyo felt her cheeks burn with blush and smiled.

"Do what you must," Izel added.

"Thank you, Izzy," Coyo said.

Gripping the basket's handle, Coyo nodded at Izel. She then exited the village, following an uneven pathway that led from a secondary gate into the lush rainforest beyond.

* * *

What was this warmth? Was it death? If so, why had Leonardo waited so long to embrace it? Every ache and worry were gone—just as he thought it would be—and he didn't miss them.

Leo inhaled, hoping for dry air. Or maybe he'd discover he no longer needed oxygen. Wrong. Moisture clung against his tongue. It tickled his throat, yet he couldn't cough, not fully.

' _The spider paralyzed me?_ '

Which meant he had survived the fall. Then how come he couldn't feel any broken bones?

Leo fought for control over his eyes. They opened in short spurts, and the world spun as he adjusted to the scant lighting. The shapes ahead were nothing more than a kaleidoscope. Brown, green, and yellow? What sort of animal or tree was that?

Leo blinked—long and hard—then opened his eyes again. Before him was not a tree nor beast, but a woman.

Shit. What was she doing? What did she want? Was she a poacher? A drug runner? Was she harvesting him?

The mutant begged his limbs to move. They never twitched.

' _No, no, no,_ ' Leo thought, trembling. ' _Not again. I won't do it. I won't be another prisoner. I won't—_ '

"Oh, this is priceless. Look at the great Fearless!"

Leo glared behind the woman, where Donald literally rolled with laughter.

"So pathetic!" the brunette added.

Even if he could speak, Leo wouldn't have defended himself. He _was_ pathetic. Here he laid at the mercy of yet another human, his heartbeat thumping like a war drum in his ears. And what could he do? Nothing.

Something frigid touched Leo's shoulder. It lured his attention to Joseph. The Chinese man smiled and spoke, although Leo's pulse made it impossible to hear him. He read Joseph's lips.

Watch her.

Watch who? The woman?

Joseph kept smiling, so Leonardo focused on the figure whose existence he dreaded accepting. Dark-skinned. Unkempt hair. Blue-green tribal paint from her face down.

She seemed less monstrous than Annabelle. At least she didn't stare with disturbing disassociation or scowl like his skin was nothing more than an inconvenience to bypass. Either determination or frustration kept her nose scrunched as she massaged him with some mysterious paste. The task enraptured her, leaving her unaware that the mutant had awakened.

A lack of company didn't stop her from talking, though. She grumbled in a language Leonardo had never heard before. She sat on her feet, paste in hand, and sighed before rummaging through several leaves that, frankly, looked useless. She inspected them, yet chose none.

What was that crap? Leo tried asking. His question left him in a low, raspy groan.

The woman fell on her butt. She scrambled over the forest floor and panted at a pace that almost busted her breasts from their halter wrap top. Then, she met the mutant with eyes so wide Leo could see their orange-ish hue.

Gradually, her pants slowed. She licked her lips and then crawled forward, a hand outstretched. When she touched the numb flesh across Leo's face, he wished more than ever to run. Or at least squirm. But he could only screw his eyes shut.

' _No!_ ' he thought.

He didn't care that the woman touched him without shuddering. He didn't care how she studied him without a cringe or paled expression. And he sure as hell didn't care about the shit she applied against his lacerations. Wherever or however she had found him, she should've let him be!

' _I just wanna be alone,_ ' he thought. ' _Is that so hard?_ '

"Stupid turtle," Donald whispered. "Ya'll never be alone."

How true. Leonardo's consciousness slipped away as the kaleidoscope of colors returned. There'd be no escape: not from his ghosts nor his founder.


	6. Gibberish

**A/N:** And here's the chapter of the month. Sorry; the book still isn't done, so slow updates are still necessary. XP

 _Sciencegal_ \- So long as Coyo isn't compared to a bimbo during her antics, I'll be happy. LOL Soap was supposed to be the comical one, yet now that's Coyo. How character change...

 _Zathura_ \- Yup! And Coyo ain't going anywhere, much to Leo's chagrin. :P

* * *

 **CHAPTER 06:** **GIBBERISH**

The sun had almost disappeared behind K'ekchi Village, and Coyolxauhqui was counting the moments before her departure.

"Coyo, are you listening?"

"Yes?"

"Then why are you walking away?"

Coyo paused. She lifted her attention from her dirty feet then faced the man accompanying her. Donned in a beaded collar and elaborated breechcloth, he had a strong profile that betrayed his sickly figure.

"Forgive me," she said. "My mind is—"

"Afloat. As usual."

The woman huffed. "Wee-tsee-loh-pōch-tlee."

"My name is not a complaint, Coyo." Huitzilopochtli would not meet his sister's stare. He rarely did when upset. Still, Coyo could picture the disappointment behind his dark orange eyes.

"Huitzi—"

"These are our people," Huitzi interjected.

"I understand."

"You cannot disregard their plights because you prefer to daydream."

"You think me uncaring?" Huitzi continued to hobble ahead with his staff, so Coyo blocked his path, saying, "I care!"

"Then why not listen?"

"That is…I…" The woman lacked a satisfying answer; every thought she had gravitated towards the turtle-like creature she had been sneaking off to visit.

"As I thought." Huitzi rounded Coyo with a sigh. "Head in the clouds. Just like Tacapantzin."

"Speaking ill of the dead is unlike you, Huitzi."

"Just as it is unlike you to ignore a shortage in our food supply."

"Ha—have I not explained?" Coyo rejoined her brother's side. "Several missing Guayaba or Naranjilla hardly causes alarm, yes? A family of Ozomahtli has been spotted nearby. I doubt they would resist temptation."

Huitzi shook his head. "Our fruits attribute a bigger issue. Several of Nenetl's herbs have gone missing as well. Her Tetani reserves have been nearly depleted."

Guilt swelled inside Coyo, forcing silence on her.

"Local Pitzotl have begun migrating towards The Yaoqui's perimeters," Huitzi added. "We cannot hunt and avoid our enemies. And now the Pesto Tribe across the river has begun to overfish our waters."

"Huh?" Coyo asked. "They are expanding? Defiling the treaty?"

Huitzilopochtli looked pained when he nodded, although that could be attributed to his stumble. He cursed, steadied himself, and then removed a cork from an animal-hide flask tied around his neck.

"How much Chicha have you drank today?" asked Coyolxauhqui. She watched with a sunken heart as her brother gulped the alcohol.

"Not enough," Huitzi answered. He wiped his mouth then stuffed the cork back into the flask's neck. "You could be the final K'ekchi Chieftain."

"Do not say such things. You are older. You are Chieftain."

"Coyo"—Huitzi's hand laid on his sister's shoulder—"even Chieftain Coatlicue knew the truth. Her symptoms were similar to mine and, like her, I will not recover."

"Please, Huitzi—"

"Denial is foolish. The Yaoqui's poisons have grown stronger, as have their forces. Since Coatlicue's passing, our people have had an increase in sickness and hunger. To conquer that, we need a leader who uses her head, not loses it."

Coyo's lower lip trembled. She hated whenever Huitzi spoke as if he already occupied a grave—like he was a spirit grooming her for a role she never wanted. Yet she steeled her jaw.

' _Be like water,_ ' she thought. ' _Let the ripples flow outward or away or…something._ ' How did that saying go? She felt terrible for butchering it.

"Coyo?"

"May I leave?" Although her abruptness made Huitzi frown, he nodded.

"You are Chieftain," he said.

Coyolxauhqui forwent any formalities. Huitzilopochtli was aware she hated reminders about her tribe's poor standing, and the last emotion she wanted to carry was despair. So, she tucked the argument at the back of her mind and instead clung to hope. Soon she would be back in the forest, tending a being who she could label as neither man nor beast.

* * *

Leonardo loathed the chirps and trills of the Amazon Rainforest. Birds. Monkeys. Frogs. They all shared a freedom that he struggled to regain, and at times, he swore they teased him for it. Just like Donald.

"Least yer voice is comin' back, eh?" the brunette asked.

Leo kept his eyes fixed on his dirt-stained fingers. They curled loosely by his face, but at least they moved.

"Ya sound like a cancerous smoker," continued Donald. "Still, beggars can't be choosers. Hey, think we'll actually talk to that lady this time? Ya know, instead of just glarin'?"

Please. Glaring was the least Leonardo could do. Sunken in mud, battered, and paralyzed, he clung to what little control he had. That said, as the days passed and Leo's limbs mended, his hostility waned. The tribeswoman had every chance for murder or abandonment. She chose neither.

So the bigger question became: what did she expect from him?

Donald snorted. "Ya could ask. Or perhaps ya're too scared? Scared she'll turn out like Lombardo and Stephens."

The mutant wouldn't acknowledge Donald's footfalls. They weren't real. Not like his cotton mouth, clenched hand, and aching bones. He raised his eyes towards the forest's canopy. The sky was darkening, which meant his nurse would appear soon.

Would she bring that paste again? Hopefully not. The strange painkiller turned his stomach and left him stiff. If only his voice weren't so hoarse. Maybe then he could ask for an alternative remedy.

That is if she would even understand…

Leonardo twitched—senses lit by faint crunching then a yelp. He watched through narrow eyes as a tribeswoman stumbled into his sanctuary. She balanced on one leg and pulled at a vine that kept her other leg outstretched. How it wrapped so many times around her shin was a mystery. But Leo cared less about mystery and more about what she carried in her basket.

' _Great, more fruit._ '

With a huff, the tribeswoman freed herself. She nodded towards the trees as if she held some personal vendetta against them, although that smugness died once she saw Leo. She cried in her native tongue, running forward.

She must've been upset that the mutant no longer sat in the position she had last left him in yesterday. What was he supposed to do, though? His legs had moved, however briefly. Too bad their healing rate paled when compared to his upper body.

"N—no," Leo hissed. He shied from the tribeswoman's hand then urged her backward. "I—" He swallowed. "I do…it."

The tribeswoman stared with blank, orange eyes.

No matter. Leo tucked an arm under his side then pushed. He may as well have weighed a ton at the rate he lifted himself. Yet he persisted until he sat upright. Shouldn't that have pleased the tribeswoman? Not brought murmurs to her lips and her fingers to his arm?

She surveyed him through prods and strokes that stung his bruises. Her brows furrowed, gaze focused on the discolored skin. To her, it must've seemed strange; not two days ago there had been a hump where his fractured forearm turned askew. Now it was straight.

' _Thanks to Recro-12._ '

"Sucks to think that, doesn't it?" Donald asked. Leo felt breath against the side of his head. "Yer legs were twisted, yer spine nearly snapped. Ya could feel yer organs failin'. Yet here ya are, reforming like a salamander or starfish."

Leonardo turned, drawing back his arm. "W-wa…ter," he said.

The tribeswoman shook her head.

"Water," Leo repeated. "Dri…nk."

Again, she shook her head.

' _She's given me water before,_ ' the mutant thought. Then again, he'd never asked for it.

"Duhn…ka?" the human questioned. She muttered then exclaimed—all in her native tongue.

"I…I don't—" Leo cut himself off with a sigh.

"Drun-ka," she whispered. "Hwa—wah-ter."

"Yes, water." Coughing, Leo brought a hand to his cracked lips, even though his fingers couldn't form a cup.

"Ei!" the tribeswoman cried. "Ah-tl!"

"Ah-tl?"

"Keh-ma!" The tribeswoman shifted through her basket. Beneath a distressed cloth and pile of what looked like shriveled potatoes, she pulled out an animal-hide flask. "Ah-tl," she said while holding it up.

Leo nodded. "Water."

The human looked proud then uncorked the flask. Despite the trembles in his hands, Leo refused to let her pour any water in his mouth. She'd done that enough times already.

' _Not concerned about Cholera or Salmonellosis anymore, eh?_ ' asked Donald inside Leo's mind.

Guess not. If had survived a fall from one of the tallest trees in the Amazon, what was a sickness?

Leo tilted his head back and gulped as much water as his tender throat would allow. He gasped for air once the flask was emptied then began coughing before he swallowed the last mouth-full. The tribeswoman reached over to pat his carapace, but her fingers were unwanted. Leo pushed her, glaring as his cough worsened.

"Shoo-moh-kak-gawa!" she yelled.

"Don't"—Leo panted—"touch me."

The tribeswoman stood, red-faced. What was her problem? She finds a half-dead, talking mutant in the wilderness, and meets any hostility with a huff? Somehow, Leo suspected he wasn't the first anomaly she had faced.

"Mah-shill-tla-poh-pohl-we," she said.

Leonardo rubbed his face. "Your words… are gibberish."

"Ne-mes-la-lout-tia." The human kneeled by Leo, who faced her hesitantly. Her smile returned, and she placed a hand over her chest. "No ni-mitz-no-palehui-lea."

Must Leo repeat himself? He scowled, yet the tribeswoman tapped her chest again, saying,

"Notōcā Cō-hōl-shall-ski."

Cō-hōl-shall-ski? She had used that word before. Right? Recalling the last few days was like looking through dirty water.

"Cō-hōl-shall-ski," she repeated. It must've been her name; she gestured towards Leo next.

Should he bother? The moment he was healed, he planned to disappear. Even so, she was helping him.

"Leonardo," he said.

Coyolxauhqui bounced on her knees. "Leonardo. No ni-mitz-no-palehui-lea."

Leo groaned. "I don't understand that."

"Ooh-no-an?"

"Yes, I don't understand."

"Yes? Oo-no-an?"

"No, I don't."

"Yes, no?"

"No. Just no."

"No. Yes?"

"Just. No."

"Tlen?"

Leonardo slapped a palm against his face. He could feel it; this visit would be much longer than the rest. And it would start with him explaining how he wouldn't use her topical painkiller.


	7. Izel

**A/Ns:** Progress is still bein made. Slowly, but still. I now have 19 out of 35/36 chapters written. :) Now, on with the show!

 _Sciencegal_ \- Right? On the upside, those interactions give you experience when writing similar scenes. Having a Puerto Rican best friend has made me think harder about how bilingual people think. Helped A LOT with Sophia's case, actually.

 _ZathuraRoy_ \- Talking is talking in my book. Poor Leo, though. LOL

 _Guest_ \- Yes. Yes, they did. But don't count Leo out just yet. This journey is all about him healing, after all...

* * *

 **CHAPTER 07:** **IZEL**

Coyolxauhqui smiled across Izel's straw hut. "Do not pout, Izzy," she said.

"I am not pouting," Izel countered.

"Your arms are crossed."

"So?"

"And I know your bottom lip is not that big."

Izel sucked in her cheeks, distorting the tattoos over them as Coyo removed the lid from the firepot she squatted beside. The Chieftain scooped some stew from the pot with a wooden bowl then began to speak her best friend's name. Izel, however, cut her off when she stepped dangerously close to the red coals that heated their dinner.

"You told me I could see the creature by the time the moon was halved," she said. "Tonight, it is almost full."

"Sneaking out has become harder, Izel, and were we both missing—"

The skinhead waved a hand. "How would that differ from our childhood? Besides, at the rate you take Tetani leafs it is a wonder you have not been caught already."

Coyo frowned. "I take what is necessary."

"Half of Nenetl's reserves?"

"Remember his size, Izzy, his injuries. Added to that was Hupaxque's venom."

"Wah-posh-keh? He was bitten by Hapaxque? And lived?"

"I noticed its black mark on both his neck and hand."

"How?" Izel reclaimed her slack jaw. "How is that possible?"

"Hapaxque are known for their aggressive behavior. He must have encroached on the spider's territory."

Izel paused then dryly said, "You misunderstand. As usual."

"Then clarify."

"I meant how did he survive the creature's bite?"

"Ample amounts of Tetani. I mixed them with Xlopi, Scyn, and Maunt to create a paste. It eases his pain, although I suspect he dislikes it."

"So"—Izel rounded the fire pit to kneel by her friend—"you believe herbs saved his life? Odd, considering the death rate of Hupaxque is nine in ten."

Coyo stared at her stew. Should she mention the alarming rate at which the turtle-man was healing? When she had found him, his legs curved, and he reeked of death and urine. Yet now he sat up on his own. And spoke. Like a human.

"Coyo?"

Coyo faced Izel, saying, "Fine. You may come. But know one thing."

"What?"

"This creature is unlike anything you have ever seen, and…he does not speak our language."

"Huehuei Ometeotl," Izel whispered, eyes widening, "it speaks?"

* * *

Leonardo's throat had swelled shut. Someone invaded his sanctuary, another tribeswoman. Her frame was petite, and her hair had been shaved. Dressed in a fur-trimmed breechcloth and short poncho, she stood yards away, dumbfounded. If only Leo's legs were as healthy as his arms. Maybe then he'd have a chance at running.

' _I should've expected this,_ ' he thought. ' _It was only a matter of time before someone else found me._ '

Still, the obvious inevitability didn't calm Leo. The skinhead drew closer, and he squirmed against the tree base that cradled him.

The skinhead halted, calling over her shoulder, "Coyo, ah-yoh-tl?"

"Ah-yoh-tl eh lah la-cah, Izel," a second female answered. Coyolxauhqui. Brushing aside her frizzy hair, the tribeswoman placed a hand on the skinhead's shoulder then smiled.

So this newcomer was a friend? A member of her tribe, probably. That would explain why their tattoos matched in color, though not design.

The tribeswomen began chatting, their enthusiasm more foreign to Leo than their language. Only one other human had met him with such awe. He couldn't decide if that eased or worried him. Then again, things could be worse. He could've been found by those military troops instead.

' _That's right_.' Donald's voice echoed at the back of Leo's mind. ' _Instead of becomin' a pet project, ya could be sacrificed to some pagan god. Doesn't that sound fun?_ '

Leonardo clenched his fists, gaze set on the humans. They seated themselves within arm's reach and waited until his breathing slowed before speaking.

"Ti-ah-lee," the skinhead told Leo. She spoke slowly enough that the pronunciation in her exotic accent could be detected.

Coyolxauhqui shook her head then recited some long phrase in gibberish.

The skinhead waved her off. "Notōcā Izel. Ken motōcā?"

"Izel—"

Leo stopped Coyolxauhqui with a sharp look before narrowing his eyes at Izel. "Coyolxauhqui already knows, I"—he licked his wounded lips—"don't know what you're saying. No understand. Got it?"

"English?" Izel asked. She faced her friend.

Coyolxauhqui nodded. Leo detected something strange in the way she averted her eyes: a shame that belonged to a child rather than a woman. She toyed with the edges of her breechcloth, chewing on her lip to avoid Izel's pointed stare.

"Wait; you know English?" Leo asked.

"More than Coyo," Izel replied.

Leonardo watched his nurse's head duck further. "Why? How? Wha—what are you doing here? What do you want?"

Izel waved her arms, her poncho lifting to reveal bare breasts. Instantly, Leo looked aside.

' _Prude. What different does it make? Technically, ya're naked too. Don't even got any weapons or gear._ '

"Speak slow," Izel said.

Even though Leo wouldn't meet her gaze, he sensed her smile. "What do you want?"

"Want?"

"With me. Why are you…helping?"

"Why not?" Izel chuckled as Leo's fists loosened. "Tribe come from help."

"Wh—what does that mean? Whose tribe?"

"Izel's. Coyo's."

"Izel," Coyolxauhqui started.

The skinhead patted her friend's hand, speaking more gibberish.

"Is well," Izel continued. "Trust Izel. Trust Coyo."

Leonardo frowned. Anyone who blindly accepted his existence warranted caution. And the whole time the tribeswomen unpacked a basket, he feared they'd brandish a weapon. There was none, sans that horrible paste.

Inside, Leo screamed.

* * *

"That was incredible." Izel turned from the bright moon to face her friend. The duo walked side-by-side as they trekked through the forest.

"He is magnificent, no?" Coyolxauhqui replied.

"And he speaks. I cannot believe you waited so long to introduce us!"

"I did not wish to distress him further."

Smiling, Coyo pushed aside a curtain of vines to reveal the open sky. The distant rooftops of their village's straw huts were now visible, and she waited for Izel to exit the forest before continuing down a steep hill.

"There is one thing I must ask," Izel said, feet sliding through the dirt.

Coyo answered hesitantly. "Y—yes?"

"When you found him, he was near death, bones broken. Yet he moved with more ease than any warrior who has survived less severe traumas."

"What are you insinuating, Izel?"

"Perhaps…perhaps he is a Teonehnemi."

"A Teo? He looks nothing like them."

"Their form can change."

"Not _that_ severely.

Running ahead, Izel blocked Coyo with an outstretched hand and wild eyes. "What if he is a sign?"

"What sort?" Coyo made a face. "Really, such nonsense is the reason I have not taken him to our tribe."

"But—"

"If he were a Teonehnemi, they would have already taken him back. Besides, he speaks."

"True."

"Izel, he has not revealed his past nor intentions. So I beg you. Keep this a secret from the Elders. And Huitzi."

"Like I tell those cronies anything," the skinhead muttered. She snorted then smirked when the tribeswomen began walking again. "Are they your reason for keeping this secret? Or do you find pleasure in being the only one who knows of such a being's existence?"

Coyo's cheeks darkened with an embarrassment that whipped her head sideways. "Ludicrous," she said. "I am simply curious. You know what commotion would arise if others knew."

"In other words: you wish him to be your personal project."

"Izel!"

"Think, Coyo. Commotion or no, he is vulnerable out there. K'ekchi boundaries mean nothing nowadays and despite his remarkable healing, he has little defense against a predator—not even clothing."

"Yes. I know."

"You have been considering it."

"Since I found him."

"Rightly so. He is a living being, not an escape. Our people can protect him."

With a grave sigh and grin, Coyolxauhqui raised her head. "Why are you not Chieftain?"

"Me?" Izel snorted "No, no, no. Terrible idea."

"You talk so much about the things you would change."

"And, as you say, I intimidate women and enrage men. My ideas are mine. I have accepted that they will not spread beyond me. Which is fine."

"Really?"

"I am no leader."

"Neither am I."

Izel captured Coyo's hand, pulling her to a stop before their village's secondary gate. "Leadership runs in your blood. But you must find your own way of ruling. No one expects you to be your mother."

"No. Everyone fears I am more like my aunt."

"In ways." Izel's words stung—more so than similar ones spoken by K'ekchi Elders. "But," Izel added, "if you do not give up, you will not become her."

The tribeswomen's grips on each other tightened. Coyolxauhqui eyed the teal tattoos that seemed to jump from her hand to Izel's. It was their mark of Eztaca, their pact.

' _My duty includes more than being_ _Chieftain or a Tonalquizca_ ,' she thought. She had a responsibility outside that—one which all K'ekchi shared. In that respect, she was not alone.

"I will speak with Huitzi in the morning," said Coyo.

Izel nodded. "Good idea. He is the one who deals with American traders."

"He is also a traditionalist."

"Worry not." Izel sniggered as the two opened the gate. "How big of a commotion could Leonardo cause?"

* * *

Agent Obadiah Rook cursed in Puerto Rican yet walked with ease, despite how he wished to backhand his assistant. "They were all unsuccessful?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," Agent Barrett answered, stone-faced. The clone was, after all, accustomed to delivering bad news.

The man scanned the field report he held. "How many Jinchos were there?"

"No more than ten."

"And how many soldiers were deployed?"

"Thirty-five at O five hundred this morning, Sir."

"Are their conditions the same as the others?" With a deep sigh and frown, Obadiah made it apparent that a fluffed answer would be unacceptable.

"Mostly," Agent Barrett said. "In total, we had three deaths and a dozen accounts of agents falling unconscious moments after breaching the Barrier. All remaining members are in comas, save for seven soldiers who would not step outside the Safe Zone."

A snide smile tugged at Obadiah's face, causing several wrinkles to emphasize his aging condition. "So Baxter's invention was useless, as I predicted. Considering his terrible luck with Lombardo, you'd think Bishop would focus more on military strength, not scientific. Barrett"—said woman stood at attention—"deport the survivors to The Island. If they wish to be deserters, they can be treated as such."

Agent Barrett spoke without hesitation or emotion, "Yes, Sir."

"Decades of failures and it still pisses me off." Continuing through his base camp, Obadiah went on to say, "At this rate, there won't be anyone left to mine the wreckage. We need a new angle. Something fresh. Something—"

"Excuse me, Agent Rook."

Obadiah loathed the voice but spared a smile at the younger Hispanic who grabbed his arm. "Agent Hyde," he said. "Enjoying your naps?"

Agent Xander Hyde glanced at his hand then removed it from his superior. "I haven't fallen asleep since, Sir. Trust me."

"If you say so. Got something important to report?"

"Um, yeah. It"—Agent Hyde stepped closer to whisper—"it's about the lead I told you about."

Obadiah ran a hand over his gray beard. "The mutant? Have you found him?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"He's tricky, alright?" Agent Hyde asked in Spanish. Months ago, his Mexican dialect had required some acclimation. Now Rook understood him with little effort. "The mutant left his camp like he had just vanished. Real Stefan King shit. I followed his footprints until they disappeared by the river."

"I've heard this," Obadiah said, voice heated.

"But what you don't know is that I've found new signs. No, don't leave. Hear me out, Sir. Please."

Obadiah shared a look with Barrett. She stared listlessly, and the man returned to Agent Hyde with a groan.

"There are piles of old food," Agent Hyde said. "Used vegetation. And I—I think the smell of urine and feces."

"You think?"

"That's the problem, Sir. I couldn't stay long."

"Why?"

Agent Hyde steeled his expression. "His new camp is inside the Barrier. I almost didn't make it out."

"You… you withstood the Barrier?"

The younger Hispanic nodded. "Barely. And if we're going after that mutant, I'll need something more than standard firearms."


	8. K'ekchi Village

**A/N:** This one called for shortness, so I apologize. I'll be posting another chapter as well to make up for it.

 _Sciencegal_ \- Oh, yeah.

 _Zathura_ \- It's a slow burn intenseness, but present. XD

 _JoinTheWeb_ \- No kidding. Heh.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 08:** **K** **'** **EKCHI** **VILLAGE**

It seemed Leonardo was a hotspot for Amazonian locals. He'd barely grown accustomed to Coyolxauhqui before she introduced Izel. Then today, he found himself surrounded by a group of brown-skinned humans.

They neither gawked nor flinched, their grips firm around their hunting spears. Leo hated how they leaned into each other. They were talking about him, which unsettled him because he couldn't understand a word they spoke. His eyes found Coyolxauhqui at their center. She stood beside Izel like a reprimanded child and gave a strained smile before a man stepped forward.

The man wasn't the eldest, obviously. However, he was the most decorated—the only to wear a feathered headband and lack a spear. He crouched before Leonardo, balanced by a walking staff, then assessed the mutant with orange eyes akin to Coyo's and Izel's.

"My name is Wee-tsee-loh-pōch-tlee," he said.

"You speak English?" Leo asked.

"Yes," Huitzilopochtli replied. "No fluent. Well. I translator."

Hallelujah!

"Sister say turtle-man injured," the tribesman added.

"Sister?" Leo followed Huitzilopochtli's gaze to Coyolxauhqui, who dumbly stared in return. She must not have understood the word 'sister.'

"Turtle-man break legs, yes?" Huitzilopochtli questioned. "Been ill for long time."

Leo disliked how the stranger knew the extent of his weakened condition. The mutant remained quiet while Huitzilopochtli nodded.

"I beg pardon," the tribesman said. "No mean offense."

"No, no offense. It's just that…" Leo scanned the silent yet armed group.

"I understand." Huitzilopochtli moved closer. "But turtle-man should not stay here. Must rest elsewhere, away from predators."

"You want to move me? To where?"

"K'ekchi Village."

Why did that name sound familiar? It nagged at Leo's memory, but he pushed the thought aside. A more pressing question needed to be considered.

' _Should I trust them?_ '

Although the tribe hadn't acted hostile, that could change. The mutant frowned and looked over Coyolxauhqui's wild hair. Donald smiled from the wood line, ran a thumb across his neck, then chuckled. The act sent goosebumps across Leo's skin.

"Turtle-man." With a start, Huitzilopochtli earned the mutant's attention. His orange eyes were stern, and by the time Leo met them, Donald had disappeared. "Huitzilopochtli promise turtle-man be safe."

"I should believe that?"

"Yes. K'ekchi protect the strange."

Did they? Or was the human making a bad joke? Leonardo glared as Huitzilopochtli grinned.

"Does turtle-man have name?" the tribesman asked.

"Yeah," Leo answered slowly. "Leonardo."

* * *

K'ekchi Village was larger than expected. Its population could've filled a New York dance club, and their overlapping voices rattled Leonardo's senses while Coyolxauhqui and Izel guided him to a large hut. Inside the hut, Huitzilopochtli settled the mutant along a canvas-like blanket then drew a curtain across the doorway. It did little to silence the villagers.

' _They weren't scared,_ ' Leo thought, rubbing his sore legs. ' _They were in awe. Just who are these people?_ '

"Leonardo."

Leo looked up and gripped his thighs with both hands.

Huitzilopochtli offered a leather flask, saying, "In pain. Chicha help."

' _Gotta beat that smelly paste, I guess._ '

Leo took the flask then swigged it. Immediately, a tart flavor bit his tongue. He snorted before swallowing and liquid sprayed from his nostrils. Coughing, he scrunched his face then gasped for air through the strong aftertaste that clung to his pallet.

"We build tolerance," Huitzilopochtli said with a wheezy laugh. "Make turtle-man no spit Chicha!"

Leo cleaned himself with his hands, allowing the tribesman to reclaim the flask. "What makes you think I want more?" he asked.

Huitzilopochtli grinned as Leo's stomach churned. "Turtle-man see. Even little bit do much."

Huitzilopochtli and Coyolxauhqui were undoubtedly related; both seemed keen about forcing things on others. Speaking of which…

Leo faced Huitzilopochtli. "Where is Coyo?"

"Coyo?" Huitzilopochtli echoed.

"Yes. She and Izel were just here. Wh—why'd they leave?"

Huitzilopochtli's head bobbed, his wrinkles evident when he frowned. "Izel have chores. Coyo probably get a lecture by Ak-kah-lan and Knee-knee-chee."

"Who're they?"

"Village Elders."

"And"—Leo paused with furrowed eye ridges—"why would the Elders lecture her?"

"Rules, turtle-man. Coyo ignore them many times. Always has. Causes big trouble."

"I see…" So his nurse shared something in common with Raphael and Michelangelo. In a way, that was comforting.

"She took herbs from See-wha-pah-tlee, Medicine Woman," Huitzilopochtli added.

"Herbs," Leo muttered.

"To save turtle-man's life, Coyo said. Many K'ekchi would do same, but Coyo have no permission. She must learn consequences."

A heavy silence settled into the hut, broken only when Huitzilopochtli groaned while stretching.

"Be thankful Coyo found turtle-man, not Tlaloc," the tribesman said. "He would have returned with a maquahuitl."

"A mah-cah what?"

"Mah-cah-wheet. It is weapon."

"A—and who's Tla-lock?"

"Turtle-man find out if he keep Coyolxauhqui company."

"What's that mean?"

"Enough questions. Should rest. Chicha take effect soon. Coyo come see you tomorrow."

"But—"

Huitzilopochtli thumped his staff, its dangling ornaments swaying. "Hut my library," he said. "Full with many books. Turtle-man read, yes?"

Leonardo shook his head. "Actually—"

"I be back in the morning, try to keep village quiet."

"Wee-tsee—"

"Yolotli will guard. He strong warrior."

"Awk! Yo, guard! Yo, guard!"

Was that a bird? A bird was going to watch over him?

"Wee-tsee—tsee-loh…" Leonardo's mouth grew slack and unresponsive—just like when he had been bitten by that spider. His heart raced when his vision blurred, and his limbs tingled with a floating sensation.

Just what was that 'Chicha' crap? And why had Leo drunk it without hesitation?

' _This could've been a long, elaborate trap and I just..._ '

' _Afraid ya're_ _gonna_ _wake up as turtle soup, Freak?_ ' Donald whispered from all around. ' _What joy. Then ya can be with us all the time. Like one big, happy family._ '

' _No,_ ' Leo thought, eyelids closing. ' _I don't want that. I want…I want..._ '

Want what? Who knew? Maybe next time he woke, he could answer himself.


	9. Ayotl

**A/N:** Next one as promised. Chapters will get longer towards the end. Trust me.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 09:** **AYOTL**

"Awk! Amo cualli! Amo cualli!"

"Stop, you stupid bird!" Leonardo yelled. Half-laying on the ground, he flailed an arm at a blue and yellow Macaw, whose screeches worsened his migraine.

"Amo cualli! Awk!"

Leo growled as the Macaw swooped down and flapped his wings. "Let me move!"

"Yo!" someone called.

The Macaw squawked, abandoning Leo for Coyolxauhqui's shoulders. The bushy-haired human stood by the curtained doorway and cooed in her native language. Yo replied by ruffling his head feathers.

"That's _your_ bird?" Leonardo questioned. "Figures." He straightened himself, although the tousled blanket under him made him feel uneven.

"Beard?" the tribeswoman asked.

Leonardo nodded. "Bird."

"Beard. Bird."

"Your bird." Leonardo pointed at Yo and repeated again, "Bird."

"Ah, Yo? Yo is Cochotl. Cochotl is bird?"

"I—I guess?"

Coyo grinned, puffing up with pride. "Yoh-lo-tlee," she added. Her finger rubbed below Yo's black beak, his head leaning onto hers. "Mean…uh." She patted her chest. "Ha—heart."

"And he's your pet?"

The tribeswoman stared at the mutant until he sighed.

"Never mind," he grumbled. Hissing, he rubbed his thighs to his knees. They looked more swollen than usual, discolored, yet also straighter. And he still couldn't stand on them.

"Tetani?" Coyo asked.

The mutant tensed. His eyes found the doorway, where Huitzilopochtli's staff thumped against the wood floor.

"Awake already?" Huitzilopochtli questioned. Coyo turned as her older brother's smile broadened. "Thought turtle-man would sleep longer."

"The bird woke me," Leo said.

"Yo?"

"He was pecking my face."

The tribesman chuckled. "Keep turtle-man clean of bugs. Be thankful."

"That'd be easier without this killer headache."

"Ah, so Chicha hit turtle-man hard?"

Leo shuddered, asking, "What is that stuff?"

"Beer."

"That is not beer."

"Tribe specialty. Quick pain-killer."

"I can tell. Why carry so much if it's that potent?"

Huitzilopochtli's smile turned somber. "High tolerance," he said.

Did that make Huitzi an addict or sick? Both reasons would make sense of his emaciated figure and walking staff.

' _He has the same look in his eyes. Like Sensei._ '

Leonardo pulled his legs up when he heard the curtains draw back. A group entered the hut, consisting of men and woman. They muttered with bowed heads then fell on their knees, chanting so earnestly that Yo fled out a window. Leo looked to Huitzilopochtli and Coyolxauhqui, but his confusion went unanswered. The mutant was left stiff as a man neared. He carried a basket made of large leaves and placed it on Leonardo's lap. The site sunk Leo's stomach.

A quail laid there, drenched in blood from its slit throat. It was surrounded by purple flowers, sliced fruits and steamed corn husks on the outer edges. Was that supposed to make the plate seem appetizing? Because all Leo could focus on was the red.

"Pardon, pardon!" Huitzilopochtli cried. He reached for the basket, yet every time he touched its leaves, the group protested.

"What—what the hell is this?" whispered Leo.

Huitzilopochtli listened to the rambling crowd, nodding, teeth clenched. "They call turtle-man Teoayotl, a divine assistant of Ometeotl," he told Leonardo. "Say he survive Hupaxque's wrath. That he…" The tribesman trailed off with a frown.

"That I _what_?" Leonardo asked with a growl. Huitzilopochtli gave no answer, and the mutant snorted, shuffling his legs.

"I say turtle-man is mere Ayotl, a turtle, mortal," added Huitzilopochtli a moment later. "K'ekchi no listen. Persist."

"Can you make them leave?"

Hesitantly, the tribesman shook his head. "Only Leonardo can."

"Ho—how?"

"Turtle-man paint blood on face. Then partake of the Humitas and Naranjillas."

Leonardo swallowed hard. "P—put blood on my face?"

"It mean acceptance, show turtle-man heed plea offering."

"And if I reject?"

Huitzilopochtli sent Coyo a cursory look before replying, "Then they believe their family is dishonored by our most sacred spirit. They would self-exile."

"Th—that's ridiculous."

"That is customary, Leonardo."

' _Always gotta make the hard choices, eh?_ '

"Shut up, Donald," Leo whispered. He felt the brunette behind him, yet refused to meet his obnoxious smirk.

' _Do ya bathe in animal blood or break apart a tribe? Maybe_ _break_ _it._ _Ya're_ _excellent_ _at breakin' things._ '

Head shaking, Leo wetted his lips.

' _But if ya accept, ya're lyin'. These people may not see it, but we both know ya're no god. Not even close._ '

"I said _shut it_!" hissed Leo. He looked up to where Huitzilopochtli argued with the crowd's leader and decided.

He dipped a finger into the blood then drew a pattern across his face inspired by Coyolxauhqui's tattoos. The blood's tackiness left his skin tingling, and he fought the urge to puke while swallowing the fruit and corn husks. When he faced the group again, he did so with a frown and sour stomach.

That seemed good enough for the worshippers. They bore smiles across their dirt-stained faces before they left—an act that chilled rather than warmed Leo. As their last words sounded, Huitzilopochtli snatched up the offering then dropped it onto a table with a force that made Coyolxauhqui jump.

"Hu—Huitzi?" she asked.

Huitzilopochtli spoke over his shoulder. Coyo started a reply, only her brother cut her off. They soon fell into a conversation that likely would have confused Leonardo even if he spoke their language. So what did it matter?

He pulled the blanket towards his face, rubbing it. It scratched like sandpaper, yet the blood needed to be removed. He could feel it creeping into his pores. It was the worst feeling; he'd decided that long ago. By the time he glanced back up, his face felt raw and Coyo's eyes watered. She whispered something, bowed towards her brother, then sent Leonardo a hard look before retreating beyond the library's curtain door.

"Forgive K'ekchi, turtle-man," Huitzilopochtli said. "Especially Coyo."

"Wh—what's wrong?" questioned Leo.

"I told Coyo how troubling it is to see our people bring an offering to an outsider rather than Ometeotl. Or her."

"Really? So, what?" Leo waved an arm and glared. "I should've rejected that thing instead?"

"No, I—" The tribesman hung his head. "I thank Leonardo. Your indulgence mean much. K'ekchi lose enough people."

"I—I—I don't understand," Leo started, rubbing his cheeks. "What does that mean? Who have you lost?"

Huitzilopochtli didn't reply, but Donald did: ' _Why do ya care?_ '

Good question. Leo was unsure of his answer. He suspected he'd have time to figure it out, though. Where else did he have to go?

* * *

No matter how many times Xander blinked, black spots persisted in his vision. ' _Guess it could be worse,_ ' he thought. ' _I could be in a coma._ '

"Had I not seen it, I wouldn't have believed it, Mano!" Agent Rook grinned, his weathered face glowing red. He punched Xander's shoulder as if they were old friends—an act as discerning as his address of 'Bro.' "What did you find? Any other leads? Oh, tell me it's something good."

Not five minutes after sitting down and already expecting a full report? The younger agent should've expected as much.

"It's a little hard to make sense of things when your eyes are struggling to stay open, Señor," Xander said.

"A small sacrifice, Zángano. This is what the EPF pay you for."

"Yeah, but you'd think there'd be a hazard bonus for what I just did."

"You got your gun, right?"

A minor comfort, in all honesty. Plasma Rifles injured Jinchos worse than traditional bullets, but if it came down to it, Xander knew which opponent would win. He scoffed, running a hand down his tingling face.

"Report, Agent Hyde."

The brunette met his superior's eyes or at least the dark spot where his eyes should be. "The mutant was there. Had to be."

"Why do you think that?"

"Logic. The camp shows signs of one occupant. Injured. Possibly two broken legs. Drag marks are leading from a bed of leaves to, well, where he took a piss. If he were an injured native, the marks would've been shallower. And if he were a Jincho—"

"There'd be no marks at all."

"Exactly."

"That's surprisingly astute, Agent."

"Yeah, well, believe it or not: some of us qualify for the EPF with reason."

"This coming from the man who fell asleep on patrol."

Xander sighed. He'd never live down that mistake, would be?

"No matter," Agent Rook added. His boots slid across the rainforest floor, crushing dried vegetation. "If the mutant was injured, where did he go?"

"Got an answer for that, too." Digging into his vest pocket, Xander pulled out a wooden statue. It was sun-bleached, splintered, barely five inches in length, but its faded markings were so telling that they made Agent Rook scowl.


	10. Honor

**A/N:** Still not done with this damn book. /sobsobsob/ I'm trying, though.

 _Zathura_ \- Thanks for holding in there! Leo has so much to push through. ; u;

 _Sciencegal_ \- Leo thought so, too.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 10:** **HONOR**

Although the sun had set over K'ekchi Village multiple times, it never once bored Leonardo. Mundane tasks always busied the tribesmen below it. Lately, the people had been patching canoes from their previous Rainy Season. Leo found it interesting how their hands roamed the dark wood, like doctors who knew where to look for a disease. Then, the flaws were fixed, as if collisions with branches and rocks had never happened. Once, he had been that efficient and sure-footed. Wonder how it felt…

"Ah-mo! Awk! Ah-mo!"

Leonardo groaned as vibrant yellow and blue feathers blocked his view. "Go away, Yo," he told the Macaw.

Yolotli's head tilted, his fish-like eye focused on the mutant.

"I'm not 'ah-mo'," Leo continued. "The only 'bad' thing around here is how others consider you a guard."

Feathers ruffling, Yo shivered then beat air into Leo's face with his wings. The bird perched on the mutant's head and continued squawking until an amused voice called his name. Coyolxauhqui cooed in her native tongue—Nahuatl, Huitzilopochtli had called it. She caught the Macaw on her shoulder then massaged under his beak, speaking more foreign words.

"Some English would be nice," Leo said. He rubbed where the bird's talons had dug into his scalp and shifted along the hut's window when Coyo blinked. "Izel and your brother speak it. Why can't you?"

"Coyo learn," the tribeswoman drawled. "Di-fee-ult."

"You mean difficult?"

"Eh…Yes!"

Leo snorted. If anything, he granted her that much. Even Americans found English hard to master. Still, their conversations would be easier if she better applied herself to the lessons her brother instructed.

"Coyo better," added Coyo. "Uh, will better? Will…" The tribeswoman grumbled in Nahuatl, head shaking. After a long moment, her round lips puckered and her gaze landed on the mutant with an intensity that made him squirm.

"Uh, sorry?" Leo told her.

"Coyo understand. Will!" Coyo paused then spoke again. "Will understand. Coyo will understand!"

Leo's mouth twitched upwards when the tribeswoman cheered yet remained silent while Yo retreated to the rafters. He watched Coyo approach then hissed when she knelt to probe his injured leg.

"Stop," he said.

Coyo, however, ignored the outburst. "More Tetani," she muttered.

Leo pressed his hands against his purplish flesh. "Don't waste herbs. I've been through worse."

' _And_ _ya_ _deserved it._ '

Inside, the mutant's guts churned at the smell of perfumed meat that stung his sinuses. God, the rotting could've been anyone: Abigail, Joseph, Donald, maybe even Lombardo.

"Leonardo?" questioned Coyolxauhqui.

Leo inhaled until mustiness replaced the ghost scent. "Look," he said, "I'm sorry for the trouble. Seems to be the only thing I cause nowadays."

Coyo stared pensively when she sat back on her bare feet. "No trouble. It…" She trailed off with furrowed brows as if digging through her memory for the right words. "Honor. Serve is honor."

She found honor in that? In fetching water and food? In harvesting Tetani leaves? How? Hell, she was Chieftain. She must've had more than enough underlings who could care for the mutant while she dealt with more pressing matters. Why do it herself?

"Coyo live for people. Serve K'ekchi is honor." Despite a shaky start, the tribeswoman's words strengthened. "Leonardo in village. Mean Coyo serve. K'ekchi like Leonardo."

"You mean worship," Leo spat.

He recalled a raw quail, its head attached by a red, stringy tendon. While no other animals had been offered, the villagers' gifts persisted. From baskets and jewelry to dried meats and fruits, they filled the library. Such attention left a pit in the mutant's stomach, and he wondered if the villagers would still self-exile if he disappeared rather than rejected them.

"No," Coyo said. "Not worship."

"What else would you call it?"

"Gifts are…hopes. People hope in Leonardo, in what he symbolizes. Change."

"I don't need any more people placing hope on me."

"Leo—"

"You don't _know_ me, Coyolxauhqui. If you did, you wouldn't let your people hold me in such high esteem." Leo's narrowed eyes challenged the tribeswoman. His chest clenched tighter the longer she remained wordless, and he fought against Donald's snide comments that burned the back of his mind. "I'm a fallen leader. A failure."

Coyo's arms fell, her round features wounded. "Coyo understand."

"No. She doesn't."

"Leading not easy. Days feel long or lonely, but"—the tribeswoman forced a smile—"Leonardo give hope. Coyo thank Leonardo's hope."

"I'm not worth thanking." Were those Leo's words or Donald's?

"Faith holy to K'ekchi. Is honor to—"

"Stop using 'honor,' dammit!" Leo didn't care if others heard him outside the hut or that the human flinched when he slapped the floor. "There's no honor in life. It's an illusion. A lie. You can never live above the shit that happens, and it's stupid to try. Truth is: we don't matter. None of us. So why bother?"

"No matter?" whispered Coyo.

"Yeah. And my stay here won't bring anything good, either. As soon as I can walk again…" Leo sighed, thoughts dwelling on how Donald manifested more often in solitude than in the village. "I don't know. Just don't use that word."

Coyolxauhqui nodded, even though Leonardo doubted she understood the gravity in his command. Her orange eyes were glazed, and she glanced aside.

"Coyo bring Tetani leaves," she said, rising.

"Take your time," Leo countered.

"Mah shee-pah-tee-neh-mee, Leonardo."

"Be well yourself."

Leo's attention returned to the sunset as his hands lay in his lap. Whether they were clammy from stress or the Dry Season's increased humidity, he couldn't be sure. He rubbed the moisture together, all the same, to focus on anything except Coyo's slumped shoulders as she exited the library.

* * *

A heaviness weighed on Coyolxauhqui as she entered her brother's hut. And not because Yolotli rode her shoulder.

"Coyo," Huitzilopochtli said, "did you not have a meeting with the Tonalquizca?"

The woman urged Yo towards the window. After he had perched on its edge, she neared the fire pit at the hut's center, poking its red coals with a stone-tipped stick. Heat tightened the skin across her face, chest, knees, and arms, but she dared not move—not until she could forget Leonardo's glare.

"Coyo." Huitzi shuffled around his table. "Ignoring troubles will not solve them."

"Neither will wallowing in them," countered Coyo. "Attend our tribe's burial site. Surely our ancestors' spirits would tell you likewise."

Huitzi sighed. "War is our reality. Accept it."

"You mean like our father did?" Coyo's growl was deep, and Yo's feathers ruffled at it.

"Warrior Atl sacrificed everything of himself for his people," said Huitzi—a dead action. "No less is expected of us."

Coyo's head shook as she stabbed the fire pit. "If we move forward at the expense of our spirits, nothing but shells will be left behind. The sacrifices must stop."

"They will. Once the war is won."

"Winning could require another hundred seasons."

"Then we will fight another hundred seasons."

"Would you really want your children to inherit this pain?" The woman sent her brother a pointed stare. He fiddled with a statue at his table, sanding it with a porous rock.

"The village children know their duty," he said. "As do you. But unlike them, you will not embrace it."

Coyo pursed her dry mouth then buried the stone tip under several coals. "Let us not argue tonight, Huitzi. I am tired. And confused."

"You?" The man chuckled, and a thump sounded when he placed the statue down. "I should be saying such things."

"It is Leonardo."

"What about him?"

"I wish to understand him."

"If you dismissed our English lessons less often, you could."

"No, I mean—" Coyo's gaze fell on the glowing coals. "I know so little about him. Yet..."

Something behind Leonardo's red-brown eyes stirred the woman. The emotions were familiar. They had haunted her every day since childhood. And she longed to discover how much more he and she had in common.

"What does 'mah-ter' mean?" she asked.

"In what context?"

Frowning, Coyolxauhqui hesitated to repeat the English phrase. "We don't mah-ter."

"Did Leonardo tell you this?" A chair scraped against the floor as Huitzilopochtli stood, although his sister would not face him.

"Please, answer," she said.

The man groaned. "He meant we are insignificant, worthless. Who was the 'we' he was referring to?"

"Everyone," whispered Coyo. "He hates the word 'honor.' Why?"

"Coyolxauhqui."

"No." The woman shook her head, knowing full-well where her brother's warning would lead. "I cannot."

"You must. As Chieftain, tradition is of utmost value and should not be ignored by frivolous musings."

"All the more reason you should lead. I agree with Izel more often than I do with the Elders."

"Heed not silly friends."

"Izel is not silly. She is"—Coyo glanced aside—"different."

Huitzi sighed, curt and loud. "Our culture cannot collapse because you cling to childish things. Our traditions nearly died when we migrated with the Teonehnemi."

"I remember the stories."

"And visions."

Coyo glared into the red pit, uncertain if the warmth stemmed from it or her lingering memories from an alien race. "It is our duty to fulfill Eztaca, even though our ancestors made it," she said. "However, I am not Warrior Atl or Quauhtli. Nor am I Chieftain Xilonen. Or Mother. To accept the war as inevitable—"

"Would bring your mind closer to the plight beyond our barriers."

"You think me ignorant?" The top-heavy poker thumped against the ground as Coyolxauhqui whirled, eyes narrowing.

Huitzilopochtli watched her from the table with calm regard. "A reputable woman is a pillar of calm, even when trouble looms."

"Stop it, Brother! Mother's quotes have no place here."

"Of course they do. They have a place with every young woman in this tribe—just as they had for generations before Chieftain Coatlicue."

"Our lives are not what they were that many generations ago."

"Does that mean I ought not to walk with dignity as Warrior Atl taught me?"

"He was our _father_ , Huitzi." Sniffling, Coyo rubbed her eyes to keep tears from falling. "Even between us, can you not address him like it?"

"So because we are in private, I should be vulgar and impolite?"

"It is not vulgarity. It is intimacy, love."

"Love is respect."

"You can respect someone and call them 'Mother' or 'Father.' Why must we always stand on ceremony?"

"Without ceremony, what control does the K'ekchi have?" Huitzi glared through fierce orange eyes—the only betrayal of his anger. He stood, and each tap his staff's butt made against the floor sent pangs through his sister. "We have settled into this life," he continued. "But because we have coped with over a hundred Wet Seasons of war does not mean the war has lost value or potency. Our people must know we will not be shaken. We will not change for any Yaoqui. And our roots are as important today as they were before the Teo fell from the heavens."

"So time cannot touch us?" countered Coyo. "It touches everyone, Huitzi, from the day one is born."

"Our people put faith in tradition, Coyolxauhqui. It gives them comfort, a sense they are not powerless."

"It is a lie."

"A lie they must believe."

Coyo about fell backward when her head jerked upwards. "You admit that?"

"Minds are fragile"—the man paused—"Sister. Minds in war even less so."

"Like Father."

A hard line formed across Huitzi's mouth, his fingers tight around his staff.

"Can we make a deal?" Coyolxauhqui smiled, pleased by her brother's sigh because it meant his consideration.

"What deal this time?" he asked.

"I will be more, uh, respectable during our English lessons if you take more time out of the day to teach me."

"You want longer lessons? To better speak with Leonardo, I take it."

"Yes."

"And what do I gain?" The man quirked an eyebrow as his sister jumped up and nearly tripped over the poker by the fire pit.

She gave a nervous chuckle then straightened her back, saying, "I will not question the Elders so often."

"You will listen?"

Although pained by it, Coyo nodded.

"Yet not for tradition's sake," Huitzi added.

"No," the woman answered. "For the necessary lie. You think our people need to see me obey? So be it."

"Until Leonardo leaves, you mean?" Huitzi caught his sister's gaze. She could not look away nor move, and when he groaned, his staff and arm fell. "Very well," he said. "But no complaints. From you or Izel."

"Yes!" Coyolxauhqui grinned. "She will listen, too. Promise."

* * *

 **A/N:** Sibling barters LOL. Least Leo has someone on his side, even if he doesn't want the support...All well! Until next mother, ya'll (or maybe less if I can finish these last ten chapters, ugh.)


	11. Cihuapatli Nenetl

**A/N:** Delayed chapter. Sorry, folks. Slow progress. *sigh*

 _Duckie_ \- So good to start hearing from you again! I needed that love, so thanks. You're going to hate Donald more and more. Lots more to be...had. Shall I call the Ghostbusters? :D (Also, am I a bad person for giggling at your threat towards Yo?)

 _Zathura_ \- Yes, progression is slow in this story, but at least we're getting into the meat of it. This journey's been much different from my other stories...on all fronts.

 _Sciencegal_ \- That is exactly how Coyo thinks things work. LOL Healing takes fffoooorrrreeeevvveeeeerrrr.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 11:** **CIHUAPATLI NENETL**

Izel stood outside K'ekchi Village, digging out dirt from below her fingernails while her best friend spoke with Cihuapatli Nenetl.

"But," Coyo said.

Nenetl extended a spotted hand from where she sat on the forest floor. "The Tetani, please."

Coyo huffed then faced Izel.

"No," Izel said. "I warned you how serious she was."

"I can do this," Coyo told Nenetl. She clenched tighter to the broad leaves she held, making them crunch. "I have been Leonardo's caretaker for over a full moon cycle."

Nenetl kept focused on the paste that she ground inside a mortar, saying, "It seems the knowledge you had learned alongside Ichtaca has proven useful."

"And I help Tlalli whenever the Tonalquizca leave our village."

"I acknowledge your proficiency with herbs, Coyolxauhqui. However, medicine is my purpose. What is yours?"

Coyo withheld a sigh; it expanded her chest. And for once, Izel held her tongue. ' _Coyo has been spending less time with_ _the Tonalquizca ever_ _since Chieftain Coatlicue passed on. Even I admit Tlaloc should not remain as their voice much longer._ '

"Attend your duties, Honored Chief," said Nenetl. She sounded serious with her hand still outstretched, yet also gave a smile that crinkled her old eyes. "As for me? I must see this turtle creature. It is fascinating how he survived Hupaxque and can almost walk again so soon after his legs were shattered."

"Ho—how—?" Coyo's head whipped towards Izel. "Did you tell?"

"Why would I?" Izel asked, arms crossed. "Maybe it was Huitzi."

"It was," Nenetl said. "Now." The Elder bounced up on her knees to catch Coyolxauhqui's hand. She pried the Tetani leaves from the younger woman then sat back down, crushing them with a pestle.

"Coyo." Izel leaned towards the curly-haired Chieftain then whispered, "You knew from the moment Leonardo entered our village that he would no longer be your secret."

"He is wounded," said Coyo in a hiss.

"So I have seen."

"No. I mean"—the Chieftain turned further towards her best friend—"more than his legs. More than sickness. He is…scarred."

"Which makes you the only one who can understand him?"

Coyo's head jerked upwards. Her wide eyes were familiar enough not to pierce Izel with their realization and shame. Although, part of the younger woman loathed how Coyo could think—even for a moment—that she alone felt misplaced.

"Bicker, bicker, bicker," Nenetl interjected. "What sisters."

Coyolxauhqui stepped away from Izel, watching Nenetl gather her herbs and stand. "Elder, please."

Nenetl sent the Chieftain a yellow-tooth smile. "Did you not make Huitzi a promise?"

Coyo's slack mouth made Izel stifle her laughter. "Did you think your brother would forget?" Izel asked.

Coyo faced her best friend. "He had no reason to—"

"Relay your promise to the entire Elder Council?" Nenetl questioned.

Coyo paled. "He did not."

"Oh, he did. Elder Yaolt seemed particularly relieved."

"Serves you right," added Izel. "You included me without permission. Now Elder Matlal and Sacnite are staring at me like they expect _things_."

"You do hold the lowest inventory count of all Calpocatl," Nenetl told Izel.

The skinhead lifted her chin. "Which is a record I pride myself on. I prefer to paint bodies."

Nenetl groaned, dropping the subject. Good; Izel had argued with the Medicine Woman over assigned roles too many times already. She stood still as the Elder passed but then twisted when she called out.

"Will you be joining the Calpocatl or me, Izel?"

The answer was clear before Izel even nodded. The skinhead turned to follow, but Coyolxauhqui caught her bicep.

"Do not let Nenetl pry," Coyo said. "You know how she is."

"Like me?" Izel smirked. "You fear she will frighten him away?" The Chieftain looked down, and Izel's humor fell with a sigh. "I doubt it would come to that."

"Please, Izel, promise to keep her—"

"Manageable? Fine. I promise. But"—Izel glanced aside—"it won't be easy."

* * *

Leonardo found comfort in Coyolxauhqui's routine. It brought order, predictability, and assurance. Some hunched elderly woman with a decorated staff was not part of the routine. Neither was Izel.

"Wh—what's going on?" Leo asked. He watched the tribeswomen enter the hut and scooted closer to the window he sat beside.

"Oh, relax," the elder said, swatting the air. "You are in no danger."

"Izel, who's…?" Leo turned from the skinhead to the stranger. "You speak English?"

"What else should an aged Shaman learn in her leisure time?" the old lady questioned. "Basket weaving? Clothe mending? Necklace beading? I shall leave such tasks to younger hands."

"How lucky of us, See-wha-pah-tlee," said Izel dryly. She blanched when the older tribeswoman patted her, blue lips puckered.

"My name is Knee-knee-chee," the Shaman added."

Leo sent Izel a pointed look. "Where's Coyo?"

"Off being responsible," Izel answered. "She made a promise."

"And is honorable enough to keep it," Nenetl interjected. "Besides, healing is my specialty."

"I'm not fond of doctors," Leo said, gripping his knees.

"Good thing I am no doctor then. I am more. And I…need a favor, Izel."

Izel looked less-than-surprised as the elder rummaged through a leather bag. "What now?"

Nenetl's sunken mouth formed a smile. "I have forgotten several herbs, it seems. This old mind slips with such youthful distractions. You understand, yes?"

"Uh-huh."

"Could you please retrieve them, conetl? You know the spot."

Chest puffed, Izel spun on her heel then threw her arms outwards.

"Tlah-so-cah-mah-tee, Izel!" Nenetl yelled.

The skinhead rolled her eyes but complied. She flashed a grin before leaving—much like the one Michelangelo gave every time he prepared to beat his brothers at Mario Carts.

"Leonardo." Nenetl waddled towards Leo. It was a wonder the weighted baggies swaying from her staff didn't hit her upside her balding head. "Pee-ah-lee."

Leo soured; he couldn't help it. "If you've come to gawk at me—"

Nenetl snorted. "Do I look like a woman who has never seen a strange creature before?"

The mutant stared into the elder's weathered face as she leaned forward and sat. Her orange eyes were darker than Izel's or Coyo's—almost brown—and yet they held the same acceptance.

"As I thought." Nenetl's sunken smile returned. "Ah-mo. I am here as a healer. Though I admit stories whispered throughout the village piqued my interest."

"What stories?"

The Elder hummed under the mutant's glare. "Perhaps if you saw more than this library, you would know."

"I can't exactly walk."

"Not alone. You could always—Great Ometeotl!" Nenetl's flat nose scrunched. "When was the last time you bathed?"

Leo sniffed himself. What was wrong? He had smelled this way for months.

Nenetl shook her head, grumbling in Nahuatl. She loosened the drawstring on one of the many baggies attached to her staff. She pulled out a couple dried leaves, ground them between her palms, and then rubbed them along the mutant's tender legs.

"Hey!" Leo cried. He pushed the elder back with a weak arm.

"An uncared for body nurtures a sick mind," Nenetl said.

Leo scoffed. "What do you know about my mind?"

"Personally? Little. However, I know those eyes." The Elder's movements eased, yet she continued her task. "You have a warrior's stare. But it is worn, defeated. Like many K'ekchi stares."

"Yeah?" Leo blinked. His limbs felt heavy, lethargic. He breathed in a bitter scent from his legs and concluded he had been drugged. Again.

' _What is with these people and their so-called remedies?_ ' Although, he did smell better.

"Huitzilopochtli spoke of the miraculous things your body has done," continued Nenetl. "Yet I can also tell you do not appreciate the miracle."

"Is that what it was? A miracle?" The mutant closed his eyes, recalling the wet contact his body made with the forest floor.

"What would you call it? Bad luck?"

Leo didn't answer.

"I cannot pretend to know you or your story, telpochtli." Nenetl spoke so much like Splinter that the mutant froze under her callous fingertips. "However, I have spent a lifetime surrounded by the sick and weary. I know pain. And I know when someone is lost."

Leo snorted. "Next you'll be telling me 'life is what I make it.' That I—I should take control. Right?"

"Have you lost your wits?" Nenetl's round eyes widened. "We are never in control. Life is a river current. It beats us against stones. Pulls us under. Immerses us. It cannot be stopped, and to survive, we must accept we do not decide where or how we are carried. We simply flow."

"Yeah? Where to? A waterfall? The edges of the earth?"

"Waters run in full circles. Just like life."

Leo scoffed and rubbed his temples.

"One cannot heal if they do not accept reality, Leonardo."

"Stop it," the mutant spat. But the old woman was unconcerned with his glare. "Why do any of you care? I'm not one of your people."

"Kindness is unbiased. It can be shared with anyone, even from humans to creatures."

"For what reason? It makes no difference. We aren't—" Sighing, Leo furrowed his eye ridges.

"You remind me of my son." Although Nenetl's voice broke, she maintained a steady stare as her hands left Leo's legs. "I…I refuse to watch such pain again. Tell me: what would lure you out of this library?"

"For starters, people could stop looking at me like I'm a savior," Leo said. Man, had he been waiting to tell someone that. "I'm no god. Or hero. I—I couldn't even save—" Swallowing, Leonardo faced the hot breeze that flowed through the window.

"You were robbed of so much," Nenetl whispered. "What was it? A partner? A friend? Your faith?"

"Yeah, what'd ya lose, Freak?" a voice whispered in Leo's ear. It made the mutant shudder, even though Donald hadn't manifested.

"You are not the only one in need of healing, Leonardo," Nenetl said.

Leo shook his head until dizziness muddled Donald's invisible presence. "Look, thanks for the potpourri, but I'm not here for psychiatric care. I'm here because Coyo ran for help. As soon as I can walk again…."

What? He'd continue meandering through the rainforest? Wait for a predator to pick him off? He'd almost succumbed to that once already. And he had fought back—rapidly so. No matter how many times his mind gave up, his body kept fighting. Why?

Nenetl smiled through Leo's double vision. "Our Chieftain brought you here. She saved your life. I would be curious as to why."

Leo furrowed his eye ridges, and the Elder sniggered as movement sounded at the library door. Izel entered with a dead expression, lifting a bag with one hand.

"These were _not_ in the usual spot," she told Nenetl.

Nenetl covered her sunken mouth. "This is why you were delayed?"

Izel's lips turned downwards. She approached then bent over to deliver the bag into the Elder's waiting arms. "You are a manipulative old lady," she said. A heartbeat later, she grinned. "I love you, Citli."

"Ah-ah-ah!" Nenetl wagged a bony finger until Izel huffed.

"Sorry," Izel said. "Cihuapatli Nenetl."

What did 'sit-lee' mean? It could've been an inside joke, judging by the way the tribeswomen exchanged smirks. Actually. Leo narrowed his eyes. Their smirks were very similar, as if related.

"Does it matter, Freak?" Donald scoffed inside Leo's mind, forcing his attention elsewhere. "What's knowin' more about the tribe gonna get ya, huh?"

"A distraction," Joseph answered. "You could use one of those, Leonardo. Besides, you owe Coyo for—"

Donald cut off the Chinese man so fiercely, his voice throbbed Leo's brain. "Owe her? Bullshit! We didn't ask for anything."

"All the more reason he should give her a chance, right?"

Maybe the herbs from earlier made Joseph and Donald seem more real than usual. If possible, the mutant would pull the ghosts from his mind. But as things stood, he could only stare and consider Joseph's words. Perhaps Leo did need a distraction, an escape. He had a feeling Coyo would know a good place…


	12. The Tour

**A/N:** Meant to post this yesterday, but got tied up in another project.

 _Sciencegal_ \- That's what I'VE been telling him. Stubborn turtle.  
tentenbaby- Thanks.  
 _Duckie_ \- Coyo would agree. But she's got little choice. So, ha, Coyo. Glad you like Nenetl. She reminds me a little of Irma and Baker. Huh. Guess I have a fondness with well-meaning elderly people. They got so much to offer. XD

* * *

 **CHAPTER 12:** **THE TOUR**

Huitzilopochtli noticed Leonardo looked green, even for a turtle's complexion. "Are you ill, Cuamahui?" he asked.

Leonardo grimaced as if the title 'friend' was an insult. Or maybe he disliked how the villagers muttered as they passed the library.

"Your request has been honored," Huitzi continued. "Chieftain Coyolxauhqui and Cihuapatli Nenetl have spoken with K'ekchi. They no longer offer gifts."

"Yeah," Leonardo said, "but now they look at me like…"

"Like what?"

The turtle-man sighed, his knuckles white as they squeezed his walking staff. "Doesn't matter."

Huitzi nodded. "I understand. How are you? Does standing again feel strange?" The man's vision fell. Despite their yellowish tint and slight quivers, Leonardo's legs seemed to struggled more from underuse than from healing.

' _Remarkable_ ,' Huitzi thought. _'God or no, he has been enhanced somehow. Only Teo can survive Hupaxque._ '

"I'm weak," Leonardo said with a sigh. "But upright. So."

"Progress?" Huitzi sent a smile that soon died. "Are you certain about this? I understand if a bath required all your energy."

"A bucket and a rag hardly count as a bath where I'm from."

"Were you dissatisfied?"

"Nah." Leonardo ignored Huitzi's mild stare. "The simplicity was"—he shrugged—"relaxing, fresh. Made me realize how long I've been…"

"Been what?"

The turtle-man scoffed. "I don't know. Guess sitting still for so long was driving me crazy."

Huitzi chuckled—until Leonardo's smirk fell. The turtle-man muttered into his shoulder, eyes darting sideways like an invisible enemy stood there. A pit formed in the man's gut; he could not help comparing the behavior to that of his father, Atl.

"Huitzi!" Coyolxauhqui's cry was followed by thumping footfalls.

Huitzilopochtli faced his sister. "Coyo," he said. "Have you spoken with the Tonalquizca already?"

"Yes," Coyo replied in Nuahtl. She straightened from catching her breath beside Izel then lowered her brows. "Why did you not wait?"

"Daylight is dwindling."

"You _said_ I could help."

"Can Leonardo not choose when he wishes to walk?"

A red tinge darkened Coyo's face as Izel patted her shoulder. "Have pity, Huitzi. Coyo just suffered through yet another Tlaloc rant. He's quite high-strung today. Rather annoying, really."

"A rant about what?"

Izel raised an eyebrow then drew her gaze to Leonardo.

"I—is something wrong?" Leonardo asked.

"Fear not," Huitzi said in English. "Coyo and Izel are excited for turtle-man. Glad he has stepped outside. Want to give him a tour."

"Wasn't that always the plan?" Leonardo met Huitzi with squinted eyes, and the man grinned.

"Village much larger than turtle-man might think," he said. "We can rest whenever necessary. Just say so."

"I bet I won't be the only one in need of breaks."

Huitzi frowned as Leonardo glanced over the man's bony build. While right, the turtle-man had no place in pointing out Huitzi's mortality.

"Uh, Huitzi?" Coyo grabbed her brother's bicep and spoke in Nahuatl. "May Coyo choose the route?"

"If you do, you must speak English." The man almost laughed at how flush his sister became. "Consider this a test," he added.

"Very well."

"Pardon? Was that English?"

The curly-haired woman huffed, speaking English, "Mean, yes."

"Better."

"Can we start?" Izel asked. Her blue lips puckered. "The Calpocatl are taking inventory, and their hut is too close."

"Still avoiding Elder Matlal?" countered Huitzi.

The skinhead soured.

"Is cualli," Coyo said. "We go Calpocatl last. Leo"—Coyo met the mutant with furrowed brows—"pre-pah, uh, pre-par...par."

"Prepared?" Leonardo suggested.

"Quema! Ah, yes."

"I've been ready." Leonardo's fingers wiggled around his walking staff as he took a step forward. "Where to?"

"Come!" Coyo gestured for the others to follow then picked a direction. Huitzi could only imagine how erratic a tour her flighty mind would give.

* * *

Izel understood her best friend's mind. The Chieftain often succumbed to tangents and distractions, and her tour was no exception. What Izel could not understand was why Coyo chose Tlahcoyan as a rest point. It was a massive, circular hut with an exposed center that could host the entire tribe if necessary. Anyone could be there, including Elder Matlal or Sacnite.

' _This is how I wanted to spend sundown_ ,' Izel thought, scanning the crowd with a frown.

"Relax, Izzy," Coyolxauhqui said in English. She sat under the shade of Tlahcoyan's fern roof, between Huitzilopochtli and Leonardo. "Xochicuicatl is nearing. The Calpocatl is busy to track."

"I could say the same about the Tonalquizca," Izel retorted. She squatted by the trio, though, and stuffed a Naranjilla in her mouth from a plate in Coyo's lap.

"Izzy," Coyo whined. "Is for Leo."

Chewing slowly on the tart fruit, Izel asked, "So?"

"That's alright, Coyo," Leo added.

"But—"

"I'm not hungry."

"Nauseous or overwhelmed?" asked Huitzi.

"Little of both, I guess," Leo answered. His dark eyes roamed Tlahcoyan. "Workhouses? Training programs? A school? It's so unexpected for such a secluded place."

Huitzi straightened—a poignant act, given his sickly features. "What did you expect? Savages? Anarchy?"

Leo's head whipped towards the man. "I—I don't mean it like—"

Huitzi raised a scarred palm. "How different do you believe we are from modern society? They have governments which equal our Elders. Presidents or totalitarians who equal our Chieftain. Laws. Even the main religion has a parallel belief to our Great Spirit, Ometeotl."

"I thought Amazonians believed in multiple gods."

"Each tribe differs, just like each church in the world. Personally, our beliefs have shifted over the last hundred years."

"Why's that?"

"For the same reason anything changes." Huitzi smiled. "Experience."

"What is your history, anyway?" Izel questioned. She stuffed another Naranjilla in her mouth and chewed it as she spoke, "All we know is your name. And that you are foreign."

Leo sobered faster than a child caught sipping Chicha.

"Not up for stories? After so many suns?" Izel swallowed. "Are we not friends?"

"Let turtle-man share when he is ready, Izel," Huitzi said. He took a fruit from the now communal plate then bit it in half.

"You must be curious as well," Izel told the man in Nuahtl. "The only other foreigner our tribe is involved with is April O'Neil. And you will not allow anyone to accompany you during meetings."

"Mask not selfish motives under the guise of innocent curiosity."

"Are you accusing me of—"

"Sorry," Leo interjected. "Did you just say something about an Apil O'Neil?"

The three K'ekchi exchanged looks before Coyo answered, "Yes."

"A pale redhead about as tall as Huitzi? Owns an antique shop in the States?" As Coyo nodded, the green creature scoffed, mouth twisted into a strange smile. "That's why it sounded familiar."

"What did?" asked Huitzi.

"Your tribe. This tea."

"The Kokee?" Coyo added.

"My father drinks this. And those statues?" Leo pointed at a table across Tlahcoyan lined with creations from Calpocatl Amoxtli. "My, uh…I know someone who collects those."

"From Second Time Around?"

Leo nodded towards Huitzi.

"You know our American contact?" Izel questioned.

Again, Leo nodded. "She's, uh," he swallowed, "she's like a big sister."

"What is that English quote?" Huitzi added. "It is a small world?"

"That's the one," answered Leo.

"Great Ometeotl," Coyo breathed. She leaned towards the turtle creature. Maybe too close for his comfort. "You know who she gives our gifts to? Do they appriciate them? Who are they? Are they dear to you?"

"Coyo," Izel sang. When the Chieftain faced her, she fought a laugh. "You are not speaking English."

"No?"

"No."

"Well, I—"

"Huitzilopochtli," a male voice interjected. So firm, so self-assured, despite addressing a superior—it could only belong to Tlaloc.

Izel watched the square-faced warrior approach, his bright eyes so focused on Leonardo that she felt offended. "Tlaloc," she said, "there are others present as well."

"Yes," the man added in Nuahtl, "I noticed."

"Is there an issue?" Huizti questioned.

"Of sorts." Tlaloc kept part of his attention on the green creature, the other part occupied by Coyo's frown. "Talk of this being—"

"Leonardo," Coyo corrected.

Tlaloc jerked his head down like he wished to honor his chief with a nod yet lacked conviction. "Talk of _him_ has all but distracted our tribe. And parading around the village has done nothing to quell such attention."

"He has a right to walk," Izel told the warrior. "As you do."

"Rights are not what I question, Calpocatl."

"What do you question then?" Huitzi asked. Izel commended him for keeping calm and chewed another fruit in wait of an explanation.

"Honorable Chief," Tlaloc stated, addressing Coyo, "you must understand how this looks to our people. They see you standing beside _him_ , a Yaoqui."

"He is no Yaoqui," the Chieftain said with a raised chin. "He is Cuamahui."

"Cuamahui? How? What do you know of him?" Tlaloc's gaze intensified as Coyo's chin lowered. Not even Izel had an answer to defend her best friend with; they knew little more than the creature's name. "You are a symbol of strength, Coyolxauhqui," the warrior added. "What good does it do their souls to see you interact with this outsider more vigorously than you do with the Tonalquizca?"

Coyo fumbled for words, glancing around Tlahcoyan with a wounded look. It pained Izel to admit it, even internally, that the warrior had a fair point.

"Uh," Leonardo added, "excuse the 'yah-oh-kiwi' or 'coo-hooey-whatever', but I'd appreciate it if you talked about me in a language I know."

Tlaloc met the turtle creature with wild eyes. "Then return home, Outsider," he said in English.

"Tlaloc—"

Tlaloc cut off Huitzi with a sigh and when he spoke again, it was in his native tongue, "Consider these matters more carefully, Honored Chief. Consider your people as well as…new charges. And forgive my intrusion; I never meant to bring shame, just thought. The day has been…long. I will see you at the morning briefing. Ma Xipahtinemi."

Then, with little more than a bow, Tlaloc disappeared into the crowd clamoring for their evening meals.

* * *

Tlaloc's words stuck to Leonardo's thoughts like flies in honey, which was odd, given that most of his words were foreign. There was something within the tribesman's tone, something familiar and haunting. Anger. Fear. Frustration. But not entirely towards Leo. Whatever lecture he had given had been directed at Coyolxauhqui and her only. Why?

"Coyo sorry, Leo."

Leonardo slipped against a muddy slope. His bare knee met the ground, and he craned his neck sideways to see Coyolxauhqui ahead. The tribeswoman looked back, her soft expression nearly hidden by untamed hair and a muscular thigh that Angel would envy.

"For what?" Leo asked.

"Tlaloc," Coyo answered. Then, she scrambled upwards, using exposed roots as anchors. "Coyo want nice day. Want Leo…happy."

"Happy, huh?" Leo sounded snider than intended. How could he help it, though? In all honesty, happiness seemed like a concept, not an emotion. "That why we left the village?"

"Village not far. Leo miss?"

Was she teasing him? The mutant scoffed, digging his walking stick into the soft soil and fighting against gravity.

"Coyo place better," the tribeswoman continued. "Leo see."

Why not? Inhaling, Leo followed his guide. The hill's remainder might as well have been Everest at the rate his sore legs moved, but the mutant made it a point to reach the hill's crest without any aid. There, the Rainforest's chirps echoed louder than ever before, and for the first time, Leo realized K'ekchi Village was settled in a lush valley.

"Leo"—Coyo earned the mutant's attention with a smile—"come."

' _What would Mike say about this?_ ' Leo wondered, complying. ' _He'd probably associate everything with a horror movie. Say I'm acting like a dumb main character._ '

Dumb or no, a nature hike sure beat any awkward loitering Leo had been doing ever since Tlaloc's outcry. With that in mind, he felt sure-footed in trekking forward—until the trees thinned into prairie fields and the Rainforest chips were replaced by a new song. Leonardo recognized its rhythm from the docks at Lower Manhattan, the breaking of water against stone.

' _A sea cliff?_ ' he thought.

"Here!" Coyo waved from afar.

She stood below a tree in bloom, an ancient one that dwarfed any Leo had seen in his lifetime. How had it lived to reach such a grand height? Erosion had all but stolen the soil around it and its exposed, gnarled roots left it suspended between two sections of cliff—as if it alone kept the parts from crumbling into the ocean. Maybe it did. Maybe those sections were the sole reason the tree survived, even though it seemed ready to falter at any given moment.

"Sort'a like you, eh, Freak? Only, ya let go."

Leo ignored Donald's voice, meeting Coyo beneath the tree's outstretched limbs. Sea breezes assaulted his body with thick, salt air, but somehow he breathed easier than when below the Rainforest canopy.

"How is this tree still standing?" he asked.

"Huelihca is strong," Coyo answered.

"Weh-leeh-kah? Did you name the tree?"

Coyo grinned then jumped onto the tree roots.

"Coyo!" the mutant cried. He realized how loud he sounded when the tribeswoman chuckled and felt his cheeks burn as he lowered his arm.

"Huelihca mean stand well," Coyo added. She continued to balance along the roots towards the tree base, casual and experienced. "Huelicha will never fall."

Leonardo watched the tribeswoman as she ran a hand along the tree's bleached trunk. Her joyous smile turned content and she rested her forehead against its bark with a sigh that the ocean silenced.

"It's an escape," Leo said. Coyo faced him with wide eyes, and Leo looked towards the dusk sky as he continued, "When I was little, I had something similar. A safe spot. I mean, I loved my family. Still do. But sometimes the noises became too much, ya know? Not just them, either. The whole city could be deafening. So I'd, uh, find a quiet place—the quietest possible—and sit there. Not thinking. Not moving. Just…being."

"Can Leo tell Coyo of his family?" Coyo asked. But his clan wasn't something the mutant wished to talk about, and he sent the tribeswoman a look that said so. "Huitzi believe Coyo no need Huelicha," Coyo added. Smile strained, she ventured out on the thickest root. "Huitzi say faith should be enough. It is not."

"Faith"—Leo spoke the word with disdain—"faith isn't sustainable. It's cruel, disappointing, makes you understand how powerless you are."

 _Their words echoed in his dreams. Even when he woke, he couldn't escape them. It hurt everywhere. Was it insomnia? The drugs? The cage? The people? Or was it guilt? He couldn't tell. And that hurt even worse._

Leo stepped back, clenching his plastron. For a moment he swore he was locked inside Cell F-9, but when he blinked, the grated walls were replaced by a purple skyline and an outstretched hand.

"Leo, join," Coyo said with a renewed smile.

"Uh." Leo glanced at her then the sheer drop towards the ocean. Did it lengthen the longer he stared? Or was that his childhood Acrophobia resurfacing?

"Is safe," Coyo insisted. She pulled Leonardo onto the roots—an impressive feat for someone who barely reached his armpits in height.

The mutant stumbled over the root web, cursing, and flashed a glare that the tribeswoman giggled at. "This place is your sanctuary, right?" he asked, following her footsteps. "Wh—why take me here?"

"As sorry for bad tour. And for peace. Come, sit." Coyo eagerly waved as she took a seat without looking. Guess she knew what would be below her: a sideways-turned root that resembled a bench. A bench dangling over a hundred foot drop. "Leo like music?"

"Music?" Leo did his best to avoid looking down, focusing instead on the dark-skinned human he sat beside. She held up a fat, painted object. Upon closer inspection, Leo noticed it was shaped like a turtle with holes perforated down its carapace. "An Ocarina?" he asked.

Coyo nodded, saying, "Can Coyo play?"

"Uh," the mutant shrugged, "sure?"

Was she seeking permission? Why? This tree was her safe place, so the happiness behind her golden stare left Leo confused. Then again, little about the tribeswoman made sense. He scrunched his face, yet said nothing when he set his walking staff aside. He just listened, his muscles relaxing the moment the Ocarina's first notes carried over the crashing waves.


	13. Roles

**A/N:** This is an extra chapter to celebrate my writing the END of Distance. Now, I still have five (and a partial) chapters to hash out. But otherwise, BOOM, BABY!

 _Sciencegal_ \- Details, details. It's the principle that matters. ;D

tentenbaby - Why thank you.

 _D_ \- You're back! Thank you, thank you. So much work has been involved. Here's to hoping it pays off. Glad to hear my stories and characters are still of interest to you. :)

 _Ducky (Guest Version lol)_ \- If all the threads materialized, I'm sure they would be the sort of web of Raph's spidery nightmares. (Also, DOWN WITH DONALD!)

* * *

 **CHAPTER 13:** **ROLES**

It felt as if every nerve running through Xander's body had fallen asleep at once. He could hardly stand, let alone hike the trail back to Base Camp, and his bad leg left him with little choice except to seek help from the two agents further ahead.

"Quincy, Beverly," the Hispanic said through gritted teeth. His comrades needed no further explanation. Both turned, retracing their steps along the dirt pathway so they could support Xander on each side.

"That's still some crazy shit," Quincy said. He half-smirked, although his eyes widened. "I felt sick just sitting on the outside. Wh—what's it like? Any better?"

Xander scrunched his nose. "No. If anything, it's worse."

"But your tolerance has built up," Beverly added. "Before, you could stay inside maybe ten or twenty minutes. Now—"

"I can search for up to two hours." Xander snorted. "Lucky me."

"The fact that you can stand it at all is…" Head shaking, Quincy resituated Xander's arm across his shoulders. "There's still no answer for why?"

'Why?' was a question Xander would rather avoid. He had suspicions, sensations, like forgotten truths buried in his childhood. But he always ignored them, regardless of how relentlessly the Barrier pried at his mind. He focused on his burning pain instead, sighing.

"You're lucky Rook hasn't shipped your ass off to The Island," said Quincy. It was hard to tell if he meant that as a joke or honestly. "The first fool not to turn into a vegetable after full exposure. Sounds almost supernatural."

"It's not," Xander cut in. "I just take my vitamins."

"Or something else." Beverly met the men's stares, her grip on Xander's wrist reminding him that, if she felt a need, she could snap his arm in half.

"I ain't taking shit, Chiflada," Xander said. "Except vitamins."

Beverly's brown eyes narrowed. "Were that true, I could walk the Barrier."

"Aw, jealous, Bevy?" Quincy smiled, but the woman's evident envy was no laughing matter. Xander nudged a knee towards the dark-skinned man as a warning.

"Do you know what I could accomplish behind enemy lines?" asked Beverly, cool. "The damage I could cause? The progress I could make?"

"Right," Quincy drawled, "and revenge would be a side plus. Eh?"

The woman sneered. "This ability is wasted on Hyde."

"You think I enjoy this role?" Xander asked. "Being Rook's new best friend? Believe me, I'd trade places in a heartbeat. Anything to get me home, out of this—" The Hispanic swallowed and felt his legs quiver. "I need a better lead. The sooner we find those natives, the sooner Rook and Bishop get what they want."

"Think you'll be cut loose after you find them?" Quincy questioned while looking ahead. "What you're capable of is worth investigating. Even I see that."

Xander flashed a bitter smile. If only they knew…

* * *

"Huitzi," Izel called.

Huitzilopochtli faced the blue-lipped skinhead, watching as she sat beside him and Leonardo in the Library.

"Sorry," she said in English. "Do I cause trouble?"

Huitzi shared a look with Leonardo. Even the turtle-man understood that, in reality, the young woman felt unashamed.

"I have gift," Izel continued. She reached into a pouch on her breechcloth then pulled out a piece of wood that had been carved into a laughing Ozomahtli. "It can replace the lost one."

"I"—Huitzi accepted the totem—"tlazocamati."

"Tie it tighter to your staff," the skinhead added in Nahuatl. "Who knows what might find them?"

She meant the Yoaqui, and Huitzi grimaced, reaching for his walking staff.

As he fastened the totem where the old one had once been, Leonardo asked, "Is that a monkey?"

"Ozomahtli, yes," answered Huitzi in English. "Symbolize joy."

"But why? I mean, what is it for?"

"It is Eiehuia," Izel said, also in English. "That is 'eh-eye-eh-wee-ah.' They are, uh…" Her bright eyes fell on Huitzi.

"Talismans," he finished. "Once they were charms for old gods. Now they are fortunes, reminders, prayers. They are named for the phrase 'to wish.'"

"They less important since K'ekchi worship Ometeotl," Izel said, leaning back and crossing her legs.

"If that's true, why…?" Leonardo glanced from Izel to Huitzi to Izel again.

The skinhead flashed a wry grin. "As Calpocatl, I craft one statue during Moon Cycle. Eiehuia are easy."

"It is minimal effort," Huitzi said through pressed lips. Still, he fought a smile as he studied the many totems dangling from his staff's head. Each one was important, from Blessing and Strong Health to Future and Laughter. They were personal, reflected his life struggles, and he could not fault Izel for her hidden hope.

"I recognize some of those from the Medicine Woman's staff," Leonardo said.

Izel curled up a leg. "She has many. Maybe all."

"You would know," Huitzi told her.

Izel scrunched her face, and Leonardo shifted on his straw mat, saying, "I've meant to ask. Izel, are you and the Medicine Woman related?"

"Why think that?" countered Izel.

"Are you?"

"I am." Izel's attention lingered on Huitzi, perhaps unwillingly asking for permission to continue. When the man nodded, her composure eased. "She is Citli, my grandmother."

"Yet you call her by a title."

"K'ekchi tradition. We call everyone by proper names."

"Even parents?"

The young woman flinched—a subtle act evident only in her fingers. "Quema."

"It is respectable," Leonardo all but muttered. How odd; few outsiders would realize that.

"Coyo hates it," said Izel with a shrug. "As do I."

"Yet you listen," Huitzi interjected. "Mostly."

"Back home I'd"—Leonardo struggled for words—"I'd call my father 'Sensei.' It means 'mentor.' But sometimes I can't help calling him 'Otōsan,' Father. Sometimes you just feel…"

The turtle-man trailed off with parted lips. He looked forward, although his gaze was vacant, his hands loose in his lap. Something unseen brought him back to reality in seconds and he hid his mouth when he whispered into his shoulder. What was happening in the creature's troubled mind?

"We are not very different," Izel said. "Make it easier, yes? We know April O'Neil is Leo's family. Why not say more?"

"Without Coyo?" asked Huitzilopochtli. He could just imagine his little sister's rant and the headache that would follow.

"She is with Tonalquizca," Izel whined. "Who know how long Tlaloc keep her?"

"Tlaloc," Leonardo spoke the warrior's name with furrowed eye ridges, "he doesn't like my being here, does he?"

"Tlaloc is—"

Huitzi cut off Izel, "Frustrated. He is son to Yaolt, Tonalquizca leader. He bears the burden of leading future warriors, of protection. Coyo should help him more often."

"Coyo hunts," Izel said. "Provides. What Tlaloc asks is as dangerous as walking Teo to Xelihuiyan borders."

"Izel!" Huitzi's attention found the skinhead as sharp and straight as an arrow.

She understood her mistake, and looked away, licking her blue lips as Leo asked, "Teh-oh?"

"Every K'ekchi plays a role," continued Huitzi. "Some are artists. Some are warriors. And one guides them all. Or should."

Izel stomped a foot against the wood floor, her anklets jingling. "Not everyone is happy with their roles."

"Then what would you be, Izel?" Huitzi cocked his head, but the young woman avoided his gaze.

"That's a good question," Leonardo said after a silent moment. "If you don't fit the role you were meant for, if you only fail at it and had a choice to be anything else…what would you be?"

Did the turtle-man speak to his company or himself? He grew still and stared at his three-fingered hands, attention once again slipping.

Huitzi shook his staff in an attempt to break Leonardo's self-induced spell. "I believe we should respect our roles. They were not given thoughtlessly, and despite personal faults, we are obligated to fulfill them."

"Even if you're miserable?" whispered Leonardo. His brown eyes were disquieting, distraught. And Huitzi lacked an answer under their pain. His hesitation made Izel sigh and the turtle-man frown as if disappointed on a spiritual level. Was he?

"Even if we hate our roles," started Izel, "there is good in them. I enjoy gifts. And Huitzi teach children although he can never—" The young woman stopped herself short with another sigh.

"My time to help Coyo is limited," Huitzi confirmed. Admitting the reality out loud put pressure on his chest. "I wish she would accept that."

"Awk!" a Cochotl's screech filled the Library. "Ti-oh-tah-kee! Ti-oh-tah-kee!"

Izel laughed when Yolotli dove from the rafters, speaking native greetings as his wings beat air across the group's heads, "Afternoon too, Yo! Is Coyo here?"

Yo squawked again then landed on Leonardo's bald skull. The turtle-man waved his arms to rid himself of the animal's talons, yet Yo always returned to his perch.

"Yo like Leo," Izel told the turtle-man in English.

"He could stand to like me less," Leonardo replied.

Huitzi shook his head, powerless against a smile. "Would be much worse, Cuamahui. Cochotl is protective, loyal. He has one bondmate and few are permitted near that bondmate."

"Last man Yo did not like," Izel said, "he was, uh, hurt. Bleeding."

"Yo maimed his neck," Huitzi explained further. "Now his head cannot turn"—what was the English word?—"left."

Izel scoffed. "Talaloc's fault. He yelled."

"Tlaloc would never harm Coyo," said Huitzi in Nahuatl. "That day was hard for everyone. You remember."

The skinhead fell silent as footfalls climbed the Library steps.

Coyolxauhqui parted the curtained doorway then sent Yo a pointed look. "Where you go?" she asked the animal her native tongue. Yo's bright feathers ruffled and Leonardo cringed as his talons shifted. "You child! You no wait?"

"Was he exiled from the meeting?" questioned Izel.

"A distraction, they say," answered Coyo while crossing her arms. "But he warrior too, a scout. He save lives!"

"Mostly yours. Others?" Izel shrugged halfheartedly.

"False. True, Yo?" Yolotli squawked at his bondmate, wings spreading like sun rays against the blue sky. "See? He agree."

"Should we ask Tlaloc?"

Coyo made a face, but before she continued the argument, Huitzi spoke up, "Izel, Coyo, what rule did we set for the Library?"

The young women puckered their lips. Then, they both looked at Leonardo, apologizing in English at the same time. The turtle-man waved a three-fingered hand. Maybe after so many times, he had learned to accept the lapses into Nahuatl.

"How did the meeting go, Coyo?" asked Izel. Leonardo's gaze found the Chieftain as well.

"Talk of meeting later," answered Coyo.

"Coyo," Huitzi started.

The young woman spun towards her brother, curly hair bouncing. "Please?"

Curse her big eyes; they always made the man feel weak. "As you wish," he said. "If the issues are that involved, you will have time to speak of them with Izel and I while she prepares for Xochicuicatl."

The skinhead groaned then lay back on the floor.

"Show-chee—" Leonardo stopped with scrunched features.

"Show-chee-kwee-cal," Huitzi corrected.

"I've heard that name before. Several times."

"It means Flower Song Day. It is our most celebrated holiday of Dry Season. For many K'ekchi it renews hope. For others…" The pressure on the man's chest grew tenfold, and he licked his cracked lips so their sting would keep him centered.

"When is it?" asked Leonardo, although he sounded less interested than he looked.

"Two new moons," answered Coyo.

"Mid-August, according to your calendar," Huitzi added.

"It's almost August?" Leonardo's question left him in a whisper. The turtle man's face paled, and his vacant stare returned.

"Leo in rainforest a long time?" Coyo questioned. But Leonardo would not answer. He hid behind his hands and Yo's stretched wing.

"He live here one moon cycle," said Izel from the floor. "Why not another? Or two?"

Huitzi shook his head. "That choice is Leonardo's. His body has healed miraculously, whether you"—the man glanced at the turtle-man—"admit it or not. Soon, you will recover. Where will you go?"

"Go?" Coyo kneeled beside Leonardo so suddenly, Yo fled when the turtle-man jerked backward. "Leo no leave. Leo can stay. Leo stay, yes?"

"Leonardo had a life before us," said Huitzi in Nahuatl.

The Chieftain sent him a look, replying in kind, "How can Teachcauh be certain? Leo has not spoken of his life. What if he has none? Never did? Or what if they are gone? What if Leo is more like the Teo than you think?"

The man held his tongue just long enough to temper his anger. "The Ayotl has admitted to a sister and father. So he has some family, at least. If he returns to them that is _his_ choice."

Huitzi was right; Coyo knew it. She sighed, apologizing to the turtle-man yet again, then stood. Yolotli landed on her shoulder after she backpedaled and he nuzzled her neck with fervor. She smiled at the Cochotl, stroking his crest feathers.

"Leo need not worry," Izel said while joining her best friend. "We no need answer soon. Yes?" The siblings nodded, and the skinhead ran her fingers through Yo's wings as she addressed the turtle-man. "Want to walk again? Get fresh air? Maybe finish tour?"

Huitzilopochtli expected Leonardo to decline. He had socialized for hours already, an impressive feat for one who had spent most days watching from a window. The man stood with the intent of ushering the young women from the Library. But Leonardo followed suit, almost smiling.

"Actually," he said, "I'd like that."

* * *

 **A/N:** Trouble's a brewin'. But Leo's making progress as well, so. ;D


	14. Allum

**A/N:** Happy Holloween, Dudes and Dudettes! Let's celebrate with another chapter, yeah?

 _tentenbaby_ \- :D

 _Sciencegal_ \- He'll get there eventually. Has lots of bonding to do along the way, too. ;3

 _D_ \- Very good sign. And thanks. That was only half-planned if I'm to be honest. Most of it sort've...fell into place. This is what happens when your characters decide things for you. LOL.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 14:** **ALLUM**

 _S_ _irens drowned out Donald's scream as the lights inside Hall F flashed red, and Leonardo tensed when unanimous_ _buzzing_ _vibrated his bones. The cell doors shook violently. Then, they slid open._

 _Was this_ _actually_ _happening?_

Remember that hope, Leonardo? It lasted a fraction of a second, but you felt it. Despite everything, it resurfaced. So why did you forsake it so quickly?

 _Leo watched the men and women clamor towards the exit. They trampled Donald in their_ _haste,_ _and some_ _were beaten_ _sideways by Melody's robotic arms. Her efforts seemed_ _half-hearted_ _, although Leo could've been mistaken. The cyborg continued to deter any who dared pass. Broken bones must've followed, yet the escapees collected in a swarm, each one trying again and again._

Like a dream, right? Humans could not be that barbaric. You protected them because you saw good in them. Those people, though? They were terrified. Had you spoken to them with the same passion as you did in the beginning—the kind that comforted kids and inspired your brothers—they would have put faith in you. Like Kaiya.

 _Leo glanced down, where Kaiya peered up with golden eyes. She squeezed his hand and attempted to pull him over his cell's threshold. No. She shouldn't be there. She shouldn't be with him. He retracted his hand, allowing her to fall_ _backward_ _._

" _M—Mister Leonardo?" she asked._

 _The mutant didn't face her._ _He_ _watched Donald limp off the ground, bruised, bloody, and panting. Although the brunette's side-bent hand was kept tight against his ribs, he pushed forward like a soldier at war. Like Raphael._

You knew better. Yet how could you stop the connections? Joseph with Donny. Kaiya with Mikey. Donald with Raph. Your heart ached to have your brothers beside you, in any way possible. And fear left you numb whenever you would ask yourself "Are they searching for me? Do they really want me back?" Your reassurance when everyone in Hall F still lived, were those words for the others? Or you?

 _The mob pushed harder. A fraction splintered off to attack Lombardo while a majority joined their strengths against Melody. The number proved an advantage. The cyborg faltered until her comrades flanked her, and a stout, Indian man bypassed the chaos_ _altogether_ _._

 _He stopped before Donald, a smile spreading through his_ _bushy_ _beard. "Are you the instigator of this little revolt?" he asked._

 _The gangster leered. "Who the hell are you?"_

" _I'm Doctor Stephens. And I'm afraid you've disrupted the order of Halls F, G, H, I, and J."_

 _Five halls? Was that why there were so many people? And still more coming?_

" _Guess it's a party!" Donald yelled. "Stay outta our way, Old Timer; we're leavin' this joint."_

" _Ah, well, not_ _entirely_ _."_

Would you have made a difference? Could you have, had you fought? You may have saved Donald, at least. And Kaiya…

 _The Jonin's attention found a ring of escapees that had formed around Donald and Stephens. They shoved one another to avoid the doctor when he neared them like a kid playing tag, and Lombardo's voice paled when compared to their cries._

 _Amongst them, Kaiya avoided Donald's corpse. Her eyes were wide, her frame shaking so badly that she struggled to walk. The scent of decay worsened the faster the poison ate the brunette's flesh, and the sight drove the girl towards the panicked crowd._

 _What should he do? Should he stop her? He always failed when he tried. Was the risk worth it? The mutant stepped forward only to find the blonde lost in a sea of white jumpsuits. Judging by the violent shoving…_

 _Well, he wasn't a worthy savior anyway._

Had you thought that with conviction? Or was it a lie you told yourself? You believed it then, regardless. What about now? Do you still cling to failure and dread? Do you think you will never feel whole again? Have humans robbed you of the prime trait that appointed you Jonin of the Hamato Clan?

 _Paige was filled with terror. Leo could sense it, but he didn't share it. He shared nothing with these people. Everything familiar had died, right at his fingertips. Even Donald._

 _The mutant glanced up and down Hall F. It was silent like the void of outer space—a stark contrast to the anarchy that remained. Stephens claimed more victims. The cyborgs struggled for control. The mob beat one another. Lombardo gimped to safety. Yet none of it bothered Leo. It simply…was._

" _F is for 'failure!'"_

 _Imagine that; Donald knew the truth. And Leo could only laugh._

Leonardo focused on the night sky with stinging eyes. ' _What the hell was that?_ ' he thought, gasping.

His limbs felt prickly and weighted, and his straw mat dug into his skin as he army crawled towards the Library window. He hooked an arm over the wooden sill then pulled himself up, breathing in a warm breeze.

' _I—_ ' He sniffled. ' _Was I awake or asleep?_ _Meditating_ _? I—I don't remember. It seemed like a dream,_ _but…_ '

It had felt as if he relived the past in a split moment. The emotions lingered—a dangerous cocktail that left the mutant hazy and near tears. He trembled, beating the sill, and looked beyond K'ekchi Village's walls.

What was that in the Rainforest? Something that glided and glowed? Fireflies? Butterflies? No, they were much larger. Leo shook his head. When he reopened his eyes, the lights were gone.

Shit. Was he suffering another psychotic break? Like with the boar? The mutant swallowed, although his mouth was dry. No; he couldn't risk an episode. Not in the village. But where else could he go?

One place came to mind.

* * *

Coyolxauhqui listened to the ocean waves below Huelihca's suspended roots, their rhythm constant and soothing against the cliffside. ' _Teachcauh_ _wishes I would visit_ _Nenetl after such dreams,_ ' she thought, _'but this is all the_ _therapy_ _I need. I will not saturate my mind with herbs, not like Tatli and Colli.'_

In the end, her father and grandfather were not saved. Why would Coyo be any different?

The young woman sighed then jerked her head sideways when a crack sounded. "L—Leo?" she asked into the near-darkness.

The turtle-man hesitated along the cliffside, voice shaky. "Coyo? Yo—you're out here?"

"Leo okay?" Coyo added in English. She stood then climbed over the roots towards Leonardo. He stepped back when she tugged at his hand, but not before she noticed the sheen of sweat that left his skin slick. "Ca—can Coyo help? Leo in pain? Need Tetani?"

"No. It's nothing."

Coyo frowned. Her stance was balanced between two roots, but she felt confident enough to reach for the turtle-man again.

"Coyo," Leo started, pulling away, "stop."

"Is okay." The woman caught his hand a third time and refused to let go. "Maxitia. Sit. Better with friend, yes?"

The turtle-man didn't ask for clarification. Thank Ometeotl; the Chieftain doubted her English was fluent enough to explain what she meant. She guided Leo to Huelihca's trunk then sat down by him, despite his reluctance.

"Coyo tell Leo Huelihca is peace," Coyo said. "Leo believe Coyo. Leo come, for comfort. Dream bad things?"

The turtle-man scoffed. Why? Was there a weakness in seeking sanctuary? Or did he find it embarrassing to share a safe spot with a native? After so many suns, how could he remain so guarded? Did he require further proof of trust?

Yes, maybe that was it.

"Coyo dream bad," Coyo said just above a whisper. She inhaled the salt air then added, "Dream of parents. They…they dead, but Huelihca make Coyo feel imihio, their spirits. Can Leo feel imihio?"

The woman closed her eyes, focusing on the wind. It carried with it something profound: a fleeting embrace, a hand rustling her hair. But maybe she imagined it all. Sighing, she opened her eyes and grinned as fluttering sounds carried over the rushing waves.

"Wh—what are those?" asked Leonardo.

Coyo looked up. Countless white lights lit the sky with their willowy trails, streaking over the halved-moon and clouds like comets. ' _Marvelous,_ ' the young woman thought. ' _This year, they are brighter._ '

"Coyo?" continued Leo. "You see them, right?"

"Quema. Scared?"

"No, for a moment I thought—" The turtle-man stopped short with wide eyes. "I had seen a few before, but they didn't seem real."

"They real."

"What are they, though? Bugs? They're the size of Klunk."

"What is 'Klah-ck?'"

"No one. Never mind."

Coyo hummed, sending Leo a sidelong glance, "Coyo tell Leo if Leo tell Coyo one thing about Leo."

The turtle-man straightened on Huelihca's roots and scratched his neck. He sniffled then asked, "Just one thing?"

"Anything he want."

"What _I_ want?"

Coyo cocked her head. "What Leo want funny?"

"No. Not really. It's just that—" Leo shook his head as if to rid himself of his faint grin. "I'm not often asked what I want."

"Coyo too." The turtle-man looked at the woman but just as soon returned to watching the sky. "They Allum," she continued. "Leo see wings? Like waves of ocean top? Chicuey, eight."

"Eight?"

"Other tribes say Allum 'ghosts', legends, old stories. In Dry Season, Allum free to mate, dance all night, connected, one. When sun rises, lay eggs then die. That is cycle."

"An—and who frees them? Are they even from Earth?"

Coyo shook her head; the question was not one she could answer—not until the turtle-man trusted her more or she was granted permission by the Teonehnemi. She smiled, and Leo understood, sighing.

"Alright," he said. "What do you want to know?"

"Coyo want to know what Leo wishes Coyo to know."

Was the concept complicated? Did Coyo use the wrong English? Because Leo seemed at a loss.

"I—I did have a nightmare," he admitted. He kept his gaze on the Allum. "Or something like one. Coming here just seemed natural and…I can't explain why."

"Huelihca is magic." Grinning, Coyo ran her feet along the tree roots, their rough texture messaging her callous skin. "Coyo come with music. Make everything better."

"Music?" Leonardo watched as the woman pulled out her Ocarina from a pocket in her long breechcloth. His large mouth formed a smile. This time, he neither fought it nor shook it away. "There's a folk song my father sang when I was a child," he continued. "It's called 'Sakura, Sakura.' It always made me feel stronger."

"Oh!" Coyolxauhqui turned sideways then squeezed Leo's bicep. "Co—Coyo learn?"

"I, uh—"

"Nimitztla tlauhtia! Coyo and Leo play at Xochicuicatl."

"Flower Song? Huitzi didn't seem convinced I should go."

"Is what Leo want?"

"I…" Leo froze under the Chieftain's stare. Was it a trick played by the Allum's light, or did the turtle-man's cheeks darken?

"Coyo want Leo to see Xochicuicatl," added Coyo. "Xochicuicatl important, special. Co— _We_ make Xochicuicatl more special with Leo's song. Yes?"

"I get the feeling you won't let this rest even if I said no."

"Let what rest?"

"Fine."

"Tlen?"

"I'll teach you." Leo met Coyo with steeled eyes and a half-grin. "I could use the distraction, anyway."

"Tlazocamati!" cheered Coyo, bouncing.

"Yo—you're welcome. Now could you please…back up?"

Coyolxauhqui blinked. She had no idea when, but at some point, she had pressed herself against the turtle-man. She withdrew from his face and scooted along her root seat until she could no longer feel the smooth bone of his front shell. Doing so left her a little colder.

"I—I'll teach you the tune," said Leo. "The lyrics are Japanese, so it may be difficult for you to sing."

"Leo sing then, yes?"

"Um, sure. Why not? It starts like this…"

* * *

 **A/N:** Leo's making friiiieeeennnndddssss. So happy for him. You? :D

Maxitia (Mah - sheet - ee - ah) = To come closer  
Huelihca (Weh – leeh – kah)  
Imihio (Ime - he - oh)  
Chicuey (Chee - quee)  
Teonehnemi (Teh - oh - neh - neh - mee)  
Nimitztla Tlauhtia (Nee - meetz - tla Tlaw - ti - ah) = Please  
Xochicuicatl (Show - chee - kwee - cal)  
Tlen (Tleh - nn) = What?  
Tlazocamati (Tlah - so - cah - mah - tee) = Thank You **  
**


	15. Xochicuicatl

**A/N:** Happy N7 Day, for those who celebrate it. ;D Now onto something completely unrelated.

 _tentenbaby_ \- Leo needs some cute in his life, dammit.

 _DuckiePray_ \- Writing these chapters have given ME flashbacks to 'Hollow Hearts' and what a hard time it was for both me and Leo...There's more progress to be made. And I'm sure you'll like how that plot point is handled. When the time comes. ;)

* * *

 **CHAPTER 15:** **XOCHICUICATL**

Despite Tlahcoyan's hollow center and expansive space, Izel felt like a hostage, chained to a boiling pot by the mistrust of every woman in her tribe. They rotated their watch so the skinhead was never left unsupervised and she muttered curses against their ancestors as she thwacked her stew with a wooden spoon.

"The day grows worse and worse," she grumbled.

"It has barely started," Coyolxauhqui said, chuckling.

Izel flashed a look at her curly-haired friend who chopped manioc roots beside her. "For you. While you and Leo were sleeping past sunrise at Huelihca—"

"We had been practicing 'Sakura, Sakura.'"

"I was gathering water. And who approaches me at the bank? Tlaloc."

"Oh." Coyo's smile fell. "Was he seeking me?"

"He raised quite the commotion about it, too."

"He could not stand one morning without me?"

"Evidently not."

"He knows how busy I have been. This is my first year as host. I want everything perfect, and…Why such a face?"

Izel hummed, stirring her stew haphazardly. "Had it not been for Leonardo, your interest in Xochicuicatl would be near nonexistent."

"Wh—what?" Coyo saved her finger from being sliced. In a lower voice, she added, "Nonsense. Today is for my people. They need this."

"So all your hard work has been for them and not Leonardo?"

The Chieftain resumed chopping, her sigh lost under the knife's clanks against the table.

"Does he understand what it means to sing together?" asked Izel.

" _He_ will sing should he feel well enough. _I_ will play my Ocarina."

"Yet the song is the same."

Coyo raised her eyes, petite mouth puckered. "What harm is there in introducing a new song?"

"The _song_ is not harmful."

"I am a host, a guide. Without me, Leo would be lost."

"Maybe if he knew the meaning behind Xochicuicatl, not the summary Huitzi provided, he—"

"I shall explain as the night progresses, to him and the people. Details aside, our attendance together is irrelevant. He is not a formal tribe member."

Izel quirked an eyebrow. "Few will agree, especially the Elders and Tlaloc."

"Tlaloc does not own me." Coyo cut into a new manioc as if beheading a prisoner. Her brows furrowed and her chopping intensified. Her voice, however, was gentle. "I convinced Leo to sing, Izel, to open himself up, even a little. I cannot abandon him."

"The choice is yours." Shrugging, Izel leaned over her hot pot. She slurped a sample of stew from her wooden spoon then tasted another sample for good measure. She savored its saltiness, sending her best friend a sidelong glance. "This is a terrible idea. Mark my words."

"Yet you will support it."

"You have helped me through countless bad ideas. About time you had one of your own."

Izel giggled as Coyo tossed a hand-full of manioc bits her way. She mirrored the Chieftain's smile, despite chides from the elder women, and prayed to Ometeotl that, for Coyo's sake, the night would be memorable. And not in a way like last year's festival.

* * *

Xochicuicatl always made K'ekchi Village seem so upbeat and grand—whether through the influx in activities, the rhythmic drums, the kiosks of local delicacies, or the bright decorations that stretched from hut to hut. It left the people with a sense of brotherhood that let them forget, even for one day, their war against the Yaoqui, and Coyolxauhqui held no guilt in preoccupying herself with the distractions it offered. She smiled at Yolotli, following his lead through throngs of people.

"Awk!" the cochotl squawked. He spun in a tight circle then dove to a figure that stood a head taller than any other man in the village. "Yo find Leo!" he screeched in Nahuatl.

"Good boy, Yo!" Coyo called.

She squeezed by an elderly couple with apologies before stopping at Leonardo, arms akimbo. The turtle-man shifted from one leg to the other, and he rubbed his elbows, shoulders, and face almost in search of things that were no longer there. He glanced Coyo's way, but only for a moment.

"L—Leo well?" Coyo asked. "Need Kokee? Tetani? Chicha?"

Leo shook his head—an act that Yo protested with clenched talons. "It still gets to me," he said, flinching.

"What get Leo? Something bad?" Coyo spun in search of anything suspicious at the crossroads around them. Why did that make the turtle-man laugh?

"I mean walking with humans," he added. "Where I'm from I—I could never do this, so it seems…unnatural."

What sort of people did Leonardo once live amongst? Surely not the kind that deserved him.

Coyo puckered her mouth, saying, "Leo natural. No shame. He walk village free. With Coyo."

The turtle-man no longer watched the bustling crowds; he stared at the woman, stoic. For the first time, she noticed his irises were a beautiful mix of red-brown like an eclipsed sun, and they held an indescribable power. It pained Coyo's chest, rendered her mute until his gaze traveled down her body.

"O—Oh," she said, "Leo like?" The woman twirled, her fur-trimmed wrap fanning around her. Her limbs jangled from the bells tethered to her feathered bracelets and anklets, and she smiled while adjusting the gold armlet on her right side. "Leo like?" she asked again.

Leo blinked. "U—uh, yeah. You're very…blue."

Coyo's chest puffed with laughter, reminding her how restricting her wicker weaved top was. "We call blue 'texoticyapalli.'"

"That's a mouth-full."

"Mouth-full? What in mouth?"

"Words. It's an English saying. Go on."

"Ah." Coyo nodded stiffly. "Blue mean much. Freedom. Strength. Rebirth. Loyalty. Faith. It powerful."

"Powerful?"

"Quema." Coyo grinned, although it weakened under Leonardo's distant stare. "Leo?"

"Guess if I had my bandana-mask, I would've fit right in," he said.

"Banana?"

"Bandana. It's a strip of fabric I wore over my—" Leo stopped himself, hands beside his head. He sighed, and Yo pecked his fingers when he massaged his scalp. "Forget it. So, wh—what do we do now?"

"Fun," answered Coyo with outstretched arms.

"But aren't you the host? Are you allowed to...roam? Maybe I should go back to the Library."

"Amo!" Coyo caught Leo's hand, squeezing it. "Please. See festival. Try food. Wear mask. Sing."

"About that." The turtle-man paled from a leafy green to near-gray. "Maybe we shouldn't. Huitzi—"

"Song beautiful. Must share, Leo." The woman pulled the turtle-man closer to the point where he bent over. She begged with her eyes, and Leo's gray coloring darkened.

"I—I'm not sure I'm ready," he whispered. "I—I'm sorry."

"Le—Leo can change mind," added Coyo. She smiled as Leonardo straightened, even though it could not mask her disappointment. "Leo no worry. Coyo show Xochicuicatl. After, Coyo must—"

"Host?"

Coyo sighed. To say she was eager to parade around the village, extending blessings and performing ancient rites, would be a lie. Her only experience stemmed from the years she tagged behind her mother, and those times were few since she and Izel often sneaked away.

' _I should have paid closer attention,_ ' Coyo thought, her stomach in knots. ' _Back then, I_ _figured_ _I had many years to learn from Mantli. Then she was taken._ '

A year ago today, to be exact. The realization hit suddenly.

"Co—Coyo, are you about to cry?"

Coyolxauhqui sniffled, but not one tear fell from her prickling eyes. "Today fun," she said. "We play. At sunset, if Leo scared—"

"Who said I was—?"

"Leo no sing. Okay?"

Leo kept silent a long moment. In the end, though, he smiled, saying, "Deal. So what comes first?"

* * *

How could time have passed so quickly? Somewhere between the kiosk browsing and Nahuatl tales, the sun had set, and Leonardo's guide had switched from Coyolxauhqui and Yolotli to Izel. He had been leery about the change at first, especially given the amount of food the skinhead forced on him. But by the day's end, he felt at ease, content to loiter by a giant bonfire inside Tlahcoyan.

"Final sample," Izel told Leo. She held out a stick coated with something that resembled crystallized honey, and the mutant studied it through narrow eyes. "Huehuei Ometeotl." Izel scoffed. "Leo's Ihiyotlxayacatl should be quimichin, mouse—timid and scared."

Was she calling him the K'ekchi equivalent of 'chicken'?

Leo frowned then adjusted his Spirit Mask, which fit poorly on his wide head. "What is it?" he asked.

"Try."

"But—"

"Try."

Huffing, Leonardo accepted stick. Dark spots speckled its amber color, but he knew he had to bite it at least. So he did.

Izel smirked. "Good?"

Leo neither nodded nor shook his head, evaluating the semi-sweet, crunchy goo.

"Is azcatl," added Izel. "Ants."

Ants? Leo gagged then spewed out what he chewed in a single motion. He swore he felt movement in his mouth, wiggling, and Izel turned bright with laughter as the mutant scraped his tongue with his teeth.

"Le—Leo is ayolt," she said, wheezing. "Wh—why azcatl odd?"

"A _mutated_ turtle," Leo countered. He spat out the remaining goo then met the skinhead's sobered stare.

"Mutated?" she questioned. "Mean 'changed'? Leo no born this way?"

"Here you two are," a male voice interjected. Leonardo looked away to find Huitzilopochtli. The man approached the bonfire's light, gimping with his decorated staff. He sounded weary, although he kept his chin lifted and back straight.

"You no find us today, Huitzi," Izel said. "Lost?"

The tribesman lowered his brows. "No. Been following Coyo."

"She is host. You proud, yes?"

"She is behaving. For now."

"And?" Izel rolled a shoulder then gestured towards Leo. "I behave, too. Guide Leonardo. See?"

Huitzi faced the mutant then smiled. "Ozomahtli?"

Leo removed his half-mask with a sigh. He ran a thumb over the blue border around the eye sockets, its wooden texture smooth like wax. "Coyo said I needed happiness. Or something."

"Ozomahtli Ihiyotlxayacatl, the Spirit Mask of the Monkey, symbolizes laughter. It shows joy inside the wearer like a pinpoint of light. He cannot reach it, but he wants to."

"That's remarkably accurate." The mutant forced a laugh that turned into a scoff then slipped the mask back over his head. It may not have been his bandanna-mask, but it comforted him all the same.

"Leonardo had long day," added Huitzi. "Should rest."

"Huitzi—"

The tribesman met Izel's glare. "The sun has set. Best he leave. Now."

"Is something wrong?" Leo asked.

The duo answered in Nahuatl. Figures. Leonardo watched their ping-pong match of retorts, their voices hot like the bonfire they stood beside. What the hell were they upset about so suddenly?

"I—is this about me being an outsider?" questioned Leo. He went ignored. "I hate it when you guys do this to me."

"Leonardo should return to Library," Huitzi said. His orange eyes found the mutant. "The night belongs to lovers."

Wait. What?

"Huitzi, do not—"

The tribesman shook his staff, saying, "Look around, Cuamahui."

Leo did as he was told, albeit reluctantly. The bonfire revealed no one tribesmen in Tlahcoyan lacked a partner—whether they danced, played music, or lingered on the sidelines. Some gathered in family groups. Others were expecting. Or both. Those remaining fastened flowers to each others' arms, almost like a promise of some sort.

"I—Is this…?" Leo trailed off, eye ridges knit as he met Huitzi's gaze again.

"Coyo will hate you," Izel hissed.

"I had hoped she would not be foolish," countered Huitzi.

"It is a song."

"It is a tradition she trods upon."

"You believe that? Or do Elders tell you so?" Izel's glare challenged Huitzi, who faltered. He closed his mouth as the skinhead continued in her native tongue with words that were drowned out by the crackling fire and thumps from nearby drums.

"I—I don't mean to overstep any boundaries," Leo said. "Truth be told, I'd rather not be the center of attention. Having eyes on me is—" The mutant shivered. All those humans, watching, scrutinizing, like Lombardo. The thought alone made his pulse race.

"Tlaloc!" Coyolxauhqui's distressed voice pierced the night. "Shee-moh-kah-wha!"

A harsh force spun Leo sideways before he could spot the Chieftain, and he glanced down at a well-built tribesman dressed in almost as many accessories as Coyo.

"Ayotl has no right," said Tlaloc lowly. "Ignorant Yaoqui cannot sing."

"I'm realizing," Leo replied.

"Tlaloc—"

Tlaloc brushed aside Coyo then tightened his hold on the mutant. "Coyo silly. Elders no grant permission. And Ayotl silly. Let her try."

Leo wanted to pry Tlaloc's fingers away; however, the tribesman's scowl left him frozen. Not from fear, but from familiarity. Once, he had used such a look. Now, he couldn't recall what righteous indignation felt like.

"Your body healed," Tlaloc added. "No need to stay. Return to your world. Leave us in ours."

"No!" Coyo broke the males apart. "Leo can stay. Coyo want Leo to stay!" The Chieftain looked up at Leonardo, orange eyes begging. They left a pit in his stomach that was both exhilarating and puzzling. Did she dread his departure that badly?

"Yaoqui has no place in village," Tlaloc spat. "Has no place with Chieftain."

' _Hold it._ ' Leo felt the tribesman's grip loosen. ' _Is he jealous? Does he think Coyo and I…?_ ' He glanced at the curly-haired human then back at Tlaloc.

"You're right," he whispered. "I had no idea what singing with Coyo would mean. Sh—she never told me. I'm sorry." Perhaps Tlaloc had expected worse; his hand fell, and his expression dropped when he stepped back. Still, the shock didn't keep Leo from adding, "If Coyo says I can stay, though, that…that's what I want. At least for a while longer. I—"

Wanted the ghosts kept at bay. He saw them less and less as the days passed. Whether that was thanks to Coyo or the K'ekchi as a whole mattered as much as time.

"I won't make the same mistake twice," Leo continued. "Forgive me, all of you."

The mutant bowed towards the elderly folks who had joined the commotion at some point. They studied with their bright eyes, feathered headbands swaying with their movements as they addressed Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc. Who knew if they understood? It seemed like they did on some level, but Leo lacked the patience to find out. The day had been long, and not even Coyolxauhqui's touch or the nagging possibility of a nightmare could prevent him from leaving Tlahcoyan.

* * *

 **A/N:** Coyo, that was some vital intel! I swear, sometimes that woman needs a good shake. Next, we'll see how Leo handles her lie by omission, so stay tuned.

Tlahcoyan (Tlah – coh – yahn)  
Xochicuicatl (Show – chee – kwee – cal) = Flower Song Day  
Cochotl (Coach – ohlt) = Bird/Parrot/McCaw  
Texoticyapalli (Teh – show – teec – yah – polly) = Blue  
Amo (Ah - moe) = No  
Mantli (Mant - lee) = Mother _  
_Ihiyotlxayacatl (I – he – yolt – sha – yah – catl) = Spirit Mask  
Quimichin (Key – me – chin) = Mouse  
Azcatl (As – cahtl) = Ants  
Ozomahtli (Ah – soh – mahtl) = Monkey  
Ayotl (I – yohtl ) = Turtle  
Cuamahui (Kwah – ma – whee) = Friend/Ally


	16. Connect

**A/N:** I really gotta flesh out those last four chapters. /sobsob/

 _D_ \- When you get to this chapter, thanks. It's the start of many talks yet to come between those two. XD

 _Duckie_ \- As you can see, Coyo has an issue with thinking things through. SMH But enjoy another step forward!

 _Sciencegal_ \- Laughter is good. We need it to alleviate the heaviness, even if it comes full circle in the end...

* * *

 **CHAPTER 16:** **CONNECT**

Coyolxauhqui inched along the riverbank much like a child who feared they would slip in. "L—Leo?" she asked.

Leonardo plucked a stone from the mud he sat in then skipped it across the river's surface. "Don't you have a meeting?" he countered.

"Oh, uh. Meeting end. Tonalquizca hunt."

"Without you?"

"Coyo stay."

"Obviously."

The woman frowned at the turtle-man's detachment then joined him at an arm's length away. She dug her toes into the moist mud with hopes that he would talk further, yet the longer he remained silent, the louder the rushing water seemed to grow.

"Leo—"

Leo, stone in hand, pointed at the Chieftain. "Don't start."

"Coyo much sorry!"

"Yeah? Do you know how embarrassed I was last night? You left me in the dark, Coyo."

"No; fire make light."

The turtle-man flashed a funny look. "I meant you lied. You never mentioned Flower Song was a lovers' holiday or that playing a song together was as sacred as an engagement. Yeah. Huitzi explained everything."

"Leo, please." Mud smeared Coyo's shins as she twisted to kneel at Leo's side. Her forehead met the ground when she bowed and her hands tucked under her chin. "Coyo much sorry. Much, much sorry. Please, understand. Her hope Elders make exception."

"What exception?"

The woman lifted her gaze. "Us," she said. "Leo and Leo's song fun. Share song with village, make village happy."

Leo scoffed then tossed the stone he had been holding onto. It sunk into the river current.

"Leo no share?" asked Coyo.

"Not blindly. But that's not what I…"

Coyo's head cocked. "Tlen?"

"You say I'm fun? That's rich."

"Rich?"

The turtle-man scoffed again—maybe more so to cover the fact that he whispered over his shoulder than to mock Coyo. "I don't think I've ever been associated with fun before," he said. "Of all the days we could've—I mean, had I gone through with it. Why yesterday? Why couldn't we play 'Sakura, Sakura' another night?"

"Xochicuicatl special."

"So you've said."

"Xochicuicatl not only lovers' day. Day K'ekchi forget sorrow, forget"—the woman swallowed—"dead. Faith strong. Vows made. With peace. Coyo play Leo's song in peace, not war."

"Why, though?" Head shaking, Leo picked up another stone to clench. "Why is that so important? What war? What did Huitzi mean by the K'ekchi 'protect the strange'? Just what do you—?" The turtle-man stopped short. The spark in his eyes dimmed, and he hung his head, adding, "Never mind."

"Amo." Coyo didn't realize how far her head had risen until she bowed it once more. "Forgive selfish Coyo. She want happy Xochicuicatl. She want— _I_ want connection with _you_ and K'ekchi."

"A connection? Through my song? A foreigner's song?"

"Music powerful."

"Well, I think you waste too much effort on me and not enough on your people, Honorable Chief."

Leonardo's words cut Coyolxauhqui like Ayannite spears, thin yet sharp. She curled her fingers into the mud and inhaled through her nose. Should she reveal why she could not dismiss the turtle-man as easily as he did her? If he knew, would he trust her more?

"Leo body heal," she said, still bowing. "No his mind. I understand."

Leo glared—an act Coyo sensed even though she faced the ground. "You know nothing."

"Coyo know sickness. Mantli sick. Tatli sick. Teachcauh sick. Leo sick. He whisper. Look lost. Have nightmares. Feel pain. Coyo see. Coyo know." The woman lifted her head with great effort. It felt weighted and her chest clenched when Leo's gaze found her. "You no want sickness."

"It's what I deserve."

"Amo."

"Bet you'd change your tune if you saw what I've—" The turtle-man sighed, digging out another stone from the riverbank.

What tune? Now they were talking about music? Oh. Coyo's face scrunched. Maybe it was another English saying.

"What is with you?" Leo added. "Do you get a kick out of prying?" Coyo hardly had a chance to guess what he meant by 'kick' before he continued. "No one asks about me. No one wants to know what I think or likes listening to me ramble. No one thinks I'm interesting or important. So…Why do you keep insisting?"

"Coyo help."

"You can't help everyone. That's life."

"Coyo try." The woman steeled her expression, fingers raking up mud as she leaned forward. "Nimitztla tlauhtia. Please. I help."

"E—even if I wanted help. How?" Leo blinked his glossy, unfocused eyes. "How could you do anything? A mind isn't a broken bone. You can't brace it or forcefully realign it."

"Quema. Mind need more. Need change. Security. Release. Need…"

"What? More therapy sessions from the Medicine Woman?"

"She ask meet you."

"Hasn't she already?"

"Leo honest? Want know who K'ekchi guard? Why Coyo no find turtle-man unnatural?" Leo's large mouth closed under the woman's stare. She could just imagine her brother's future fury. But the risk was hers to take, and something inside convinced her that the turtle-man sympathized with the gravity of her questions. "Trust Coyo, connect. Tatli…Tatli no trust. He proud. Leo different."

"You think?"

"Quema."

"And what does that matter?"

Coyo fought a smile; Leo sounded hopeful yet also ashamed. She dug out the stone from his fist then tossed it aside. "Tihuitz," she said, their dirty hands squeezing together. "Coyo show you."

* * *

Should Leonardo follow Coyolxauhqui? It seemed his world grew a little crazier every time she led him somewhere, and, to be honest, part of him feared what would come next.

' _That's right, Freak,_ ' Donald whispered, his voice like ice against Leo's brain. ' _Instead of_ _helpin'_ _, things could go sideways. They usually do._ '

Yeah, like last night. Even in another country, Turtle Luck struck.

' _Give her a chance,_ ' Joseph added. ' _Every step she has taken has been with you in mind, Leonardo._ '

Fat chance. Leo was little more than a pet in her eyes, an experiment. Besides, the K'ekchi's secrets were not his business. Why should he meddle? For the off chance of exorcizing his ghosts?

Donald sniggered. ' _We won't leave that easily._ '

' _Leo_ '—Joseph's tone was soothing—' _consider_ _it. Maybe this is what your father had hoped for._ '

The mutant growled, fists clenching. Bullshit. While wise, Splinter was far from omniscient. He could've never foreseen another near-death experience would bring Leo to Coyo, let alone know that her insistence would expand the mutant's experiences. The old master was just tired of watching his son fail. He wanted Leo gone. They all did.

' _You can't believe that_ _; they_ _love you. You—_ '

"Leonardo!"

Leo's body jerked. Gravity hurled him back when his foot slipped, and his shin hit something hard as a grip on his wrist prevented his fall. He looked up, dizzy, into wide orange eyes that peeked over a rocky ledge.

"L—Leo okay?" she asked.

The mutant didn't answer, preoccupied with the treetops he seemed to hover over. When had he begun free climbing a damn cliff?

"Coyo say watch foot!" The tribeswoman groaned, although her cracked voice caught Leo's attention. Had she been about to cry? "Step on root, not rock. Hurry."

By the time Leo let Coyo help him up the cliff's remainder, the thumps in his ears had eased. He panted, glancing down at the rainforest. It spread out like a green ocean rolling in the breeze, and he was unsure whether he should be concerned or thankful that his mind had blocked out so much of his journey.

"Come, Leo."

"Coyo, wait." The mutant struggled against the Chieftain's hold on his hand. "Maybe this was a mistake."

"Amo"—Coyo captured his hand again—"close."

"This doesn't seem close. This? This is—it's…What is it?"

Leo squinted at a gateway arched between two cascading waterfalls. It looked untouched by both time and man; however, its surface was too smooth to be natural, and the bright dot embedded at its top resembled neither paint nor a gem. In fact, it glowed?

"This Intzalan, gateway," Coyo explained.

"Gateway to what?"

"Teonehnemi. Spirit Walkers. K'ekchi protect Teo."

"So they live apart from you?"

"Come." The tribeswoman beckoned with a hand towards the arch, where darkness awaited, despite the high sun.

Sure, Leo, follow the eccentric tribal chick into a black, foreboding forest. For all you know, it could be a wormhole or another dimension. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time he encountered such things, would it? The mutant sighed then stepped through the gate. The temperature dropped in an instant like opening a freezer on a summer day underground. And was he hallucinating or did specks of blue whirl around him?

"Co—Coyo?" he asked.

Coyo's voice sounded from ahead. "Leo see. Soon." Whether she meant that literally or metaphorically didn't matter; all Leo wanted was a better idea of the terrain. "Intzalan has no light," Coyo continued.

"So how do we see?"

"Imihio—spirit, essence—guide."

"Guess that makes me blind in more ways than one." Leo hated how his heart raced, and even more so how it ached at Coyo's wounded tone.

"Zaddir help blind."

"Who's Zaddir?"

' _Zaddir is the name given to this Languu by the K'ekchi._ '

Leonardo spun in tight circles, searching for the layered voice that invaded his thoughts and stole his breath.

"Zaddir no harm," Coyolxauhqui said. Her fingers brushed the mutant's bicep as he stumbled back. "Teo no have lips. Speak with mind."

That would explain why this 'Zaddir' felt as insidious as his ghosts, but not how its tone resonated with every nerve in Leo's body.

"My brain has enough company," he snapped. "Thanks."

"Sorry, Zaddir. I—"

' _No, I thank you, Coyolxauhqui. And ask forgiveness as well. I cannot allow you any further into Ihiyoyahualli._ '

Leo blinked as a humanoid figure flickered into existence. He could describe it no better than blue fire personified. Its thin limbs faded into pure light before they ended it either hands or feet, and the way it floated through the darkness left the impression of dancing electricity. It had no mouth to smile with or nose to scrunch, yet the pinpoint pupils inside its sunken eye sockets left the mutant with an amused impression.

' _Consider me female,_ ' Zaddir said. _'I understand it is easier for those with spoken languages to choose a set of pronouns._ '

"Ho—how?" Leo gulped. "You know English grammar?"

' _I know what you allow me to know, Leonardo._ '

"I never said you could—"

' _It is arcane knowledge, easily accessed through the simple want to connect._ '

"Who said you could connect with me?"

' _And who said the connection is conscientious?_ ' Zaddir chuckled, or at least her layer voice grew jumbled. It ignited Leo's muscles with a prickling sensation. It was familiar. But from where? ' _Fear is pointless, Leonardo. Your secrets, your demons are safe from my touch._ '

Leo sneered. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Leo!" Coyo shoved the mutant. "Connect important. Remember?"

"How do you even—? Can you hear her speaking to me?"

' _Coyolxauhqui hears in Nahuatl as you hear in English._ '

"Yo—you can speak two languages at once?"

' _Intents are universal. The mind chooses how to decipher them. I speak to you in the same way as you speak to yourself._ '

"That's…" Amazing, though Leo dared not say so.

' _Forgive Coyolxauhqui's…_ ' Zaddir faced Coyo then waved an arm. Light trails sputtered in its wake in slow-motion after images. ' _We share Mozallo._ '

"Mozallo mean join," Coyo added. Leo watched her smile, although Zaddir's body barely lit her round face. "Teo stay many seasons with K'ekchi, form strong bond. Spirits become one."

Zaddir either hummed or groaned. ' _This is how I knew to meet you today. And to warn you. Unsanctioned visits Ihiyoyahualli will misbalance the other Quizzinteyo._ '

"Coyo no mean trouble."

' _She wishes to help. I know._ _Just as you know my curiosity._ _Many days have passed since you brought this being to the village. Every day, I hear his_ _screams,_ _feel his emptiness. His agony is a beacon._ '

No. That was impossible. Right?

' _I believe you can answer yourself, Leonardo._ ' The Languu began circling Leo, perhaps banking on his discomfort to keep the conversation progressive. ' _I cannot and will not aid the unwilling. The choice is yours._ '

"Like you'd let me leave after you've revealed so much," Leo countered.

' _I would. The only thing more painful than being in the presence of tortured spirits is to correct one that fights._ ' Zaddir trailed off with some semblance of a sigh. Although she unlikely breathed, it may've been a manner she adopted from living amongst humans. ' _I sense your doubt. The hesitation is not_ _unfounded,_ _and I respect it._ '

"Zaddir!" Coyo fell silent when the Languu's pinpoint eyes found her.

' _Leonardo, what do you want?_ '

"I…" Leo looked down when the prickling in his limbs worsened. It was stupid how one question could be so profound, and he swore the ground shifted to emphasize his unsteady opinion. "I—I don't know," he whispered.

' _No?_ '

"I just said I don't."

' _Do you want help?_ '

Leo growled then ran a hand down his face. "What can you do? Huh? Not even my clan thought they could help! Why should I say yes?"

' _You tell me._ '

What a maddening alien; her calm Chi polluted the mutant's resolve, weakening him. He attempted another growl, a frown, a scoff—anything to show defiance. But he lacked the will as if hammered down by every mistake he ever made. He hadn't been the best leader or brother or friend. He had done so much wrong, let so many people down. Donald was right; he didn't deserve deliverance yet he lived anyway. And he was tired.

"I just," the mutant licked his lips, glancing up, "I want to think straight again. Or die. I—I can't carry this anymore. Carry them."

Zaddir would know who Leo meant; he willed it and braced himself for rebuke. Had he been with his clan, they wouldn't have taken kindly to suicidal thoughts. But he neither heard nor felt any scorn from Zaddir or Coyolxauhqui. They regarded the mutant's desperation with silence, and for a split moment, he felt liberated from his body.

* * *

 **A/N:** I HAVE BEEN DYING TO GET TO ZADDIR/THE LANGUU FOR YEARS! You have no idea. This wraps up Act 1 of the story. Now, the real healing begins.

 **Zaddir (Zahd – deer)**  
 **Tonalquizca (Toe – nahl – keys – kah) =** Sun Protectors  
 **Xochicuicatl (Show – chee – kwee – cal)** = Flower Song Day.  
 **Imihio (Ih** **–** **me** **–** **he** **–** **oh)  
Nimitztla Tlauhtia (Nee - meetz - tla Tlaw - ti - ah)** = Please  
 **Intzalan (Int - sah - lahn)** = "Between", the entryway to Ihiyoyahualli


	17. Boto

**CHAPTER 17:** **BOTO**

Finally, Obadiah's career was turning around. He smiled at the red lines that marked a topographical map—the first accurate account of the Barrier's layout, however partial. And it was all thanks to one agent.

"When can you get back out there, Mano?" he asked.

Agent Hyde's discomfort didn't go unnoticed; every time he reentered the Safe Zone, he looked paler than a Jincho. "Isn't this enough information?"

Obadiah smiled across the war table towards where his subordinate sat. The younger Hispanic instantly straightened up.

"I mean," Agent Hyde added, "you already know more about the land than you have in the last five decades. It should be more than enough to set up—"

"Oh, Mano," Obadiah interjected. He rounded the war table with a sigh then wrapped an arm around Agent's Hyde's neck. In a friendly manner, of course. "You aren't backing out, are you?"

"N—no, Señor."

"Por la maceta! I'd hate for you to join Rizzo. I hear those scientists have done a nasty number on him. And he only stole a rock. Imagine what they'd do to the first human who can withstand the Barrier's effects, hum?" The skin that Obadiah's elbow pinched heated up as he squeezed Agent Hyde. "I prefer you stick with me. Yeah?"

"Rizzo didn't steal just any rock," Hyde answered.

Obadiah chuckled. "That charlatán had balls to run with something so precious. But it returned. And our groundwork here must be perfect once Bishop's brains figure out how the Davvu Stone functions."

"It'll take more than three months to decipher that."

"The science division is doing its part. Focus on your own."

"That'd be easier if I could at least talk to mi chica."

"You know the deal, Mano." Obadiah grinned, folding his arm tighter. "No reward without effort."

"I've been helping you map shit forever. How much longer—"

The senior agent flexed his large bicep just enough to silence his subordinate. "Trees make satellite imaging impossible. The Barrier obscures all thermal readings. The few Strike Teams we deploy hardly remain standing. And estoy encabronado!" Obadiah threw his head back with a groan. "We've been blind too long. Now we have you. So you'll map for however long it takes you to upturn every leaf, report every path, every river, every landmark, every shred of life you _see_. Comprende?"

Agent Hyde kept his tan features controlled, although his dark eyes betrayed him. "Sí," he whispered.

"Uva!" Obadiah released the younger Hispanic then tapped the war table with a pocket knife that he pulled from his belt. "Let's talk about the next sector then, hm?"

* * *

Coyolxauhqui could not possibly suggest so many outlandish requests that the word 'come' should make Leonardo deadpan. The turtle-man eyed her hand, unmoving.

"Ayotl smart," said Tlaloc. He shifted along the bird-nest-like roots exposed above the swamp waters. "No time for play. Focus on Xelihuiyan."

"Huehuei Ometeotl." Splashing sounded as Izel swam behind Coyo. "You want guard us? Guard."

The warrior scrunched his fat nose, avoiding the water that the skinhead sprayed upwards. "We no children anymore."

"If Tlaloc only complain, why come?" Coyo interjected. She eyed the man, challenged him.

He stood down with a scoff then climbed to a higher root when Leo spoke up, "What are Botos anyway?"

"Monsters," Tlaloc said—a grumble barely heard over Izel's backstrokes.

"Tlaloc fear Boto," Izel told Leo.

The man turned redder than usual. "They violent!"

"You unkind. No wonder Botos want drown you."

Leo's head whipped toward Tlaloc as he huffed. "Th—they tried to drown you?"

"Seasons ago," Izel answered, floating. "When Tlaloc young. He never swim again. But water safe, Leo. Promise. Boto keep tecuixin away."

"What's a—"

Tlaloc spoke over the turtle-man. "Alligator. Boto, uh"—he paused in search of the English word—"hit. Beat. Kill."

"Nonsense," Coyo said in Nahuatl while waving. She grabbed Leo, urging him towards where the roots faded below the swamp's brackish surface. "Boto kind if Leo kind. Trust Coyo."

Leo wanted to; his eyes said as much. Still, he planted a heel and pulled back.

"Ometeotl's love. Swim!"

Who knew when Izel had left the water? The skinhead materialized behind Leonardo then shoved him. His body rammed Coyo, clipping his chin against her forehead, and they tumbled off the roots before the woman had the chance to catch her breath.

A sudden coldness assaulted her body. It invaded her nose, stole what little air she had left, and her nerves burned as she tried swimming around Leo's front shell. Had he always been so massive? She tapped his bicep, bubbles streaming from her face. The turtle-man wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her waist and surfacing with the grace only a water animal possessed.

"Yo—you okay?" he asked.

Coyo convulsed with a cough, saying, "Cualli, cualli."

"You sure?"

"Quema. Izel!" The Chieftain glared through matted, wet hair at her best friend.

The skinhead, already back in the water, shrugged. "He swim now, yes?"

"That was reckless!" yelled Tlaloc in Nahuatl. He looked more displeased than the wounded party and hung from a weak root as if he had frozen seconds away from diving into the swamp.

Coyo smiled at him. "Coyo okay, Tlaloc," she replied, also in Nahuatl. His expression softened until she added, "Leo helped."

"Yes," he grumbled, "I see."

"Should I"—Leo hesitated, hand twitching around Coyo's waist—"let go? This swamp is deeper than expected."

True; even in shallower areas, Coyo had no hope of touching bottom. But she prided herself on being an excellent swimmer when not weighted down by a giant body. She pushed away from Leo then trod water with a lopsided grin.

"Boto come," she said. "Leo enjoy."

The turtle-man made a face. "You've said that about a lot of things these last few weeks."

"Coyo be wrong?"

"Multiple times. Particularly the one with the beehive."

Coyo flinched when Leo rubbed his neck. Thank Ometeotl its swelling had eased. "Coyo thought hive…old."

"If it was old, why were we looking for—?"

Izel splashed Leo, snorting as he sputtered water. "Less talk, more swim."

Leonardo stopped protesting at last. He followed the women to a less obscured section in the swamp, where Coyolxauhqui signaled for silence, eased her movements, exhaled, and then closed her eyes. She opted not to tell Leo why; his experience should be as untainted as hers was in childhood. She recalled the subtle current, the buzzing insects, the contrast between the chilled water and humid air. And seasons later, the anticipation of a Boto call disturbing all that left her grinning.

"Shit!" Leo smacked the water's surface as he jerked sideways. His head twisted back and forth, making Coyo laugh. "It—I"t's not funny! Something—"

Coyo touched the turtle-man's cheek with her fingertips, and he froze. "No fear, Leo," she whispered. "No think. No worry. _Feel_. Remember Zaddir's words."

Leo released a shuddering sigh in reply. His eye ridges remained furrowed, yet he tolerated a Boto when it brushed against him and Coyo. The Chieftain loved the sensation of its hide—a smooth, slick defense that felt stronger than bone. The animal was powerful, she admitted, except caution would not keep her stationary.

"Hold breath," Coyo told Leo.

She submerged with him and heard Izel do likewise. Below, visibility was akin to searching through Chicha, only with less burning in the eyes, albeit slightly. Any pain was worth the view, however. The Botos' chirps sounded from all around like laughing children as they barrel-rolled in and out of the murky depths. Leo watched, wide-eyed, cheeks puffed with air and arms still. Perhaps he found their length surprising; it matched that of two K'ekchi men. Or maybe he debated their coloring, which adopted an orange tint from the swamp. Should she tell him they were pink?

' _No,_ ' she decided. ' _He_ _will see when they come closer._ '

She need not wait long. A juvenile Boto neared Leonardo with jerking head motions. Its needle-like snout revealed jagged teeth, but Coyo floated beside the turtle-man, reassuring him with strokes over his bicep. The Boto chipped as it nuzzled its way up Leo's front shell and he stiffened as the Chieftain guided his hand across the Boto's flipper.

Another Boto joined. Although Coyo felt Leo recoil when it emerged from the darkness, she held firm. She shook her head, gesturing towards the animals. Mother and child, both of which sought attention. They wiggled from fin to tail, and Coyo shared a smile with Izel when they began nibbling the turtle-man's legs. Secretly, she hoped they would refrain from drawing blood. Boto did enjoy eating turtles.

Great Ometeotl. She shook the idea from her mind. Nothing would happen; the pair only wanted to play. Judging by Leonardo's smile, he did as well. So who was she to deny them fun?

* * *

Leonardo met Huitzilopochtli's stare from his hut's bed mat, almost forgetting the dull sting over his shin.

"Boto swimming?" the tribesman asked.

"Yeah," answered Leo. "She took me to a swamp. It smelled terrible, and I'm sure more than one kind of bug drew blood, but…"

"But?"

Leo stared at his hands. They held a lingering enchantment from his encounter with the Botos like wet silk that left them tingling. Usually, when his heart raced in the presence of wild animals, that animal was either bent on eating or maiming him.

"It was incredible," he said. "They were powerful. Graceful. Almost like"—dare he say it?—"ninjas. I could never experience that at home."

"Boto revered by K'ekchi," Huitzi added. "They symbolize childhood, innocence. Many, like Coyo, find them soothing when troubled."

"She mentioned that. It's part of the reason we…" Leo trailed off, hands clenching. While he no longer felt the Botos, the boyish glee they uprooted remained like helium inside his body. "I felt fifteen years younger. I—I had thought Coyo was exaggerating about that."

"Seems you know her well." The tribesman grimaced. "But reckless girl failed to consider Boto diet."

"Oh, this?" Leo lifted his bloody shin. "I moved too quickly. That's all." Huitzi shook head, so the mutant added, "Don't worry. It's nothing compared to falling out of a tree or being bit by some super spider."

"Forgive me, Leonardo, no concern for you. Coyo left village without warning, was impulsive."

"We just went for a swim."

"Children swim. Adults contribute."

"Now you sound like Tlaloc."

"Cuamahui." Huitzi glared, drilling into Leo with orange eyes and curt words. "You troubled. I only imagine battle in your mind. That said, Coyo spend much time with turtle-man. She trust _too_ much." He meant Zaddir; Leo was confident, even if neither the mutant nor Chieftain told anyone except Izel of their meeting. "Coyo no think of struggles. She occupy mind with distractions."

The smile that had lasted for so long on Leo's face fell as the joy inside him hardened. "You saying I'm her excuse to avoid what's important? Do you regret bringing me here?"

"No," Huitzi growled, thumping his staff. When he looked at Leo again, the mutant noticed how much skinnier his tattooed face had become. "Turtle-man need help. Coyo does, too. She follower in position of leader. Make matters worse."

"If that's such a concern, why hasn't anyone stepped up to show her what leadership is? All I've seen are people who scold her."

"Understand: Coyo knows leadership, but no want to grow up. To win against Yaoqui, naive sister must be merciless. Otherwise, tribe doomed."

That's right, the unsaid war that hung over K'ekchi Village. Coyo had mentioned it in passing on numerous occasions, and yet Leo never questioned it. For some reason, today, the idea felt nagging. He thought of the sadness behind the Chieftain's eyes whenever she would change the subject or walk away. Had it been callous of him to ignore the pain for so long?

' _Blinded by yer own shit, eh, Freak?_ '

Leo clenched his teeth, focusing harder on Huitzi's grim expression. He hadn't seen Donald since yesterday and wanted to keep it that way.

"Please," continued Huitzi, "if turtle-man Coyo's friend, urge her to be responsible. Help her. Like she help you."

The tribesman turned without giving the mutant a chance to reply. He left the Library just when Coyolxauhqui and Yolotli entered. The siblings ignored one another—as if they had already fought—and Yo squawked as he landed on Leonardo's head.

"You upset we went swimming too?" he asked. Kneading talons answered him, massaging with their sharp tips. "Uh, ow!"

"Leo amo cualli!" Yo screeched. His wings beat air against Leo as the mutant flailed an arm. He lost the battle, though, and retreated to the rafters with fluffed feathers.

Leo sent the McCaw a pointed look. "You can stay longer once you learn to be softer."

"Is no bad," Coyo said.

"Says the woman with talon scars along her shoulders."

"Leo notice?"

Should he not have? They were faint, yet evident. And Leo glossed over them as Coyo kneeled at his feet.

The mutant attempted to distract himself; however, he found the task difficult. Not because he considered Coyo's touch intrusive or alien, but because every time she brushed his skin, a weird jolt ran through his body and left his chest tight for hours afterward. He never got such a feeling when April touched him. So it made little sense how something as simple as applying Tetani paste could raise his body temperature to feverish heights.

"Leo?"

Leonardo jerked his head down to met Coyolxauhqui's frown. "Uh, yeah?"

"Coyo sorry."

"It'll heal. It's not your fault."

"But—"

The mutant faced the tribeswoman, despite the heat across his face. "Really. I just…panicked. I—I thought the big one was going to hurt you."

Coyo ducked her head, and Leo heard her stifle a giggle. The sound sent a new jolt through him—not entirely unpleasant yet also unexplainable.

"Hey, Coyo?" he added.

The Chieftain glanced up through her drying hair.

"If—if you want to know I, uh, I'd like to tell you where I come from."

Coyo flashed a smile that about stopped the mutant's heart. "Will he?"

"Yeah." Leo returned the tribeswoman's smile, though not as brightly. "You've trusted me with a lot, and I feel ready if you—"

"Quema! Yes! Please!" Coyo smiled wider, an oddity for one with such a petite mouth. She sat at attention on the floor, watching, and Leo admitted to a little nervousness as he continued.

"Al—alright. As my brother Mikey would put it: it all started twenty-some years ago with a can of ooze…"

* * *

 **A/N** : Hope you enjoyed some therapy fluff and Leo FINALLY talking more. Depending on matters, I may be able to wrap this story up by the new year. We'll see.

 _Duckie_ \- I'm both proud and sad to read that review. Proud the emotion struck you but also sad that it roused bad memories/feelings. *lots of hugs*  
 _Sciencegal_ \- Zaddir has been fun to write with. :)


	18. Reality

**A/N:** Coyo definitely keeps Leo on his toes. He needs more spontaneity in his life. LOL. Now to some somber stuff...  
 _Duckie_ , Leo is as stubborn as Raph (just don't tell him that.)  
 _Sciencegirl_ , it takes a long, long time for that guy to admit anything.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 18:** **REALITY**

Sometimes, Coyolxauhqui forgot those outside the K'ekchi Tribe could not see nor feel Xelihuiyan. They were not touched by the Teo and thus did not notice the translucent yellow that tainted the heavens, let alone know its pale shade meant weakness.

"The Tonalquizca will need to reinforce the borders again soon."

Coyo sensed Huitzilopochtli stand beside her, yet she did not face him. "I know," she said.

"The trip should not be postponed much longer."

"I know."

"Periods between recharges are shortening."

"I know."

"Our Elders are worried."

"I know."

"…An Ozomahtli kidnapped Tlaloc."

"I kn—what?" Coyo jerked away from the yellowish sky to her sibling, who shook his head, saying, "I do pay attention, Teachcauh."

"Many would disagree."

"They are wrong."

"Are they?" Chuckling, Huitzi latched both hands onto his staff then slowly let his smile die. "What are you doing, Coyo?"

"About what?"

"You know that as well."

While true, Coyo would rather the matter go unsaid a while longer, so she turned to walk around the wall that surrounded her village.

"You took him to Intzalan, the gate of Ihiyoyahualli," Huitzi added behind her. His staff beat aside plants and rocks, perhaps in his haste to keep par with his sister.

"That matter is between Zaddir, Leonardo, and I," said Coyo over her shoulder.

"Even if you were not Chieftain, your acts would be considered treason. Zaddir needed permission from nearly all Quizzinteyo and our Elders to treat you. Your Mozallo has been a hindrance on both sides. Now, you ask her to treat another? One as damaged as you were?"

The woman bit her tongue in both a literal and metaphoric sense. What use would there be in fueling another argument? Neither sibling ever won. Besides, the last thing she wished to recall was the horror that Zaddir had helped bury.

"Listen, Coyo, please!"

"Why? So you can point out how unfit I am to lead as the Elders do? I understand that. I agree. Which is why you should—"

A thump made Coyolxauhqui spin with a gasp. She nearly tripped backward before she found her brother on his knees, his knuckles white around his staff and his other hand pressed against his bony chest like a claw. "Huitzi!" she called.

The man flinched when she knelt to touch his cheek, yet did not pull away. He seemed anchored by his panting, and Coyo's stomach tightened when he glanced up through matted hair. His eyes looked bloodshot, glassy, yellowed—a progressive step for the Omipalan Sickness.

"Coyo." Huitzi smiled, although his labored breath made him seem weary. "Please. If you avoid this any longer, I"—the man repressed a cough—"I will no longer be among the living to help."

"Do not say such things," Coyo croaked. Her jaw trembled when she stroked her brother's sunken cheek.

"Chieftain Coatlicue named you successor because even on her deathbed she understood the early signs," the man added.

"All the more proof of why I should not lead," Coyo countered. "I cannot do it. To sacrifice anyone, no matter how willing, for the greater good? To win battles? Be ruthless? I could never live with myself."

"You have no choice. We are at war. Unless you flee as our Calpollitopanaunt did, you must learn to make hard choices."

"Hard choices _kill_ , Huitzi! I watched them strip Mantli of her spirit and Tatli of his sanity. I—I—" Coyo's dry throat cut her explanation short, and Huitzi gathered her in a hug. The act brought no comfort. His arms were so thin they felt like they would break around her and his clammy skin reminded his sister of their mother's last days.

"Teicu"—Huitzi's grip tightened—"I know it hurts. I know what you fear. But the reality is if you remain distant, if you tend to Leonardo more often than your people, we _will_ fall."

"I lost Mantli, Tatli, Auitl, countless warriors," Coyo spoke into her brother's shoulder as she returned his hug tenfold. "Ho—how can I lose you too?"

The man had no answer. But he had a hold, and he used it to bring his sister close when tears spilled from her eyes.

* * *

Leonardo considered Intzalan as suffocating as the rainforest's Dry Season, no matter how many times he visited it. Maybe that was in part to the gate's similarity to an Isolation Tank—lightless and soundproof with an atmosphere like gelatin. But Zaddir worsened matters; her multi-layered voice left his mind raw, and her tendency to teleport through the darkness reminded the mutant of every ghost movie he had ever seen.

' _You are uneasy_ ,' Zaddir said telepathically. Leo's eyes followed her white-fire silhouette as she cocked her head. ' _Do you require more time?_ '

"No," Leo answered. "I'm ready."

' _Really?_ ' The Languu hummed then twirled, the after images of her body creating a trail behind her. ' _Coyo knew why I asked her to help you bond with nature. Do you?_ '

The mutant shrugged. "To relax me? Make me comfortable or whatever. But it's been a month. I'm—"

' _Restless. Still, these things must not be rushed. To heal, you must reconnect with the world._ '

"I'm fine."

' _Fine and ready are very different things._ ' A strangled sound cut through Leo's mind as Zaddir moved several strides in the blink of an eye. ' _Leonardo_ ,' she started, ' _I cannot help if you do not trust me._ '

"I want to. I do. It's just…easier said than done."

' _Like a voice inside telling you to run?_ '

Leo frowned. Of course, Zaddir would sense the doubt, and he couldn't help wondering if she heard Donald's heckling as well.

"I know next to nothing about you," he said. "Other than you and Coyo share a bond."

' _Mozallo_ _. Would you like to learn more about it?_ '

"You'd tell me?"

' _Why not? If we progress as planned, you and I will share_ _Mozallo_ _as well._ '

"Wait." Leo stiffened from his chest to his toes, eye ridges furrowing. "What's that mean?"

If Zaddir had a mouth, Leo was sure she'd be either smiling or smirking. ' _Mozallo_ _forms when a Languu and other being_ _synchronize_ _on an emotional and spiritual level. My kind lives apart from humans to prevent these bonds._ '

"Why? I mean, if the Languu avoid Mozallo does that mean it's dangerous?"

' _To traditional Quizzinteyo, yes._ '

"What's a—"

' _It is a vein, a root, to our Life Tree Ihiyoyahualli on_ _Talkkik_ _._ '

"So they're like families? Clans?"

' _In a way._ ' All humor within Zaddir's voice faded as beads of light flared behind her pit-like eyes. ' _Before my kind arrived on Earth, each Quizzenteyo consisted of only one Languu._ '

"I take it that changed."

' _Our time amongst the K'ekchi has…expanded our curiosities. See, we are neither male nor female. Our genetics are continued through our_ _Yolloyo_ _.'_ The Languu gestured towards what resembled an elongated White Star inside her semi-translucent skull. _'Our_ _Yolloyo_ _are our heart and mind. When our bodies fail, we repurpose a life, reinvent its energy into a new form that becomes the Quizzenteyo successor._ '

"Isn't that sort of like reincarnation?"

' _The same life born anew? Yes, that is accurate. We recall every memory, from the first buds of Ihiyoyahualli to now._ '

"But"—the crease between Leo's eye ridges deepened—"does that mean the same Languu lives forever?"

Zaddir shook her head. ' _We are not immortal. We are, in fact, highly vulnerable._ '

"Coming from someone who can reach inside another's mind, I find that hard to believe." The thick air inside Intzalan prickled when Zaddir rounded Leo, and the mutant massaged his tingling arms, cursing.

' _Experiences change people, Leonardo,_ ' Zaddir said. ' _Each generation is a new experience through the addition of prior memories alone. Thus, we are always evolving. The K'ekchi, for example, inspired a few Quizzinteyo to split their Yolloyo like fission. My brother and I were formed this way._ '

"You have a brother?"

' _Had_.' Zaddir gave no further explanation. Leo understood why.

"So," he started, "about Mozallo."

' _I told you Languu are vulnerable,_ ' Zaddir interjected. ' _Where Earthlings see power, we see weakness. Our very existence is a constant struggle for balance._ '

"How so?"

' _We siphon_ _energy_.'

Leo felt his face pale, although he fought the urge to swallow. "Like Chi? Life forces?"

' _We are not monsters._ ' Zaddir narrowed her pit eyes, yet her multi-voice shook. ' _We draw little by little from multiple sources, so we do not kill what maintains us. Those who take too much, who become greedy or reckless or sick, are called Yohualli, the lightless. They consume everything until driven insane. They dim then self-destruct like a bomb_.'

So they were exploding space parasites? Leo dared not ask.

' _Fear of becoming Yohualli is what keeps us distant from mankind. If our connection to them is too strong, our balance is polluted by their_ _over-emotional states._ '

"Which is why you don't live with the K'ekchi, even though they've sworn to protect you."

' _Correct_.'

"So why are you even talking to me?" Zaddir disappeared as if a giant candle has been snuffed out. Her light reignited beside Leonardo—a hot yet soothing sensation.

' _I believe the Languu can do more for others than not kill them_ ,' she whispered in Leo's mind. ' _I want to help, ebb your pain as I did Coyolxauhqui's_.'

"Co—Coyo hurt like this?"

' _Still_ _does. Just not as often or badly. Would you not like that?_ '

He would, but at what cost? Leo met the white pinpoints of Zaddir's gaze and hardened his expression.

' _Barriers will make this process much harder, Leonardo._ '

"Know what's hard? Getting all the voices in my head straight."

Zaddir smiled, mouth or no. ' _The_ _numbness_ _is wearing off, isn't it?_ '

Leo scoffed.

' _I will not ask how that makes you feel. I will ask what step you plan to take next._ '

"What do you mean?"

' _Knowing what is at risk with Mozallo, will you agree to it? Will you open your mind? That was the purpose of my sending you into the rainforest, yet you hesitate._ '

Call Leo cynical. What did it matter? Zaddir asked a lot from someone whose whole life had been spent in secrecy. To open up now would mean to let loose a floodgate that risked drowning him and he doubted the process would be pleasant or quick.

' _You can never return home without facing the ghosts, Leonardo_. _Think of your clan_.'

"How did—?"

Zaddir made a motion like she wanted to touch the mutant with her faded hand, although she stood, walking away. ' _When you thought of them, so did I. You wonder how your_ _trauma_ _can differ so much from Michelangelo's. You had both been held captive,_ _seen others die_ _. Yet he_ _healed with his_ _family. He cried, was consumed by fear, felt paranoid about being topside. You? Below the numbness, you are angry. At the world. At your clan. At yourself._ '

"Stop."

' _No!_ ' Zaddir whirled so fast she resembled a column of blue-white fire. ' _You must face these things if you want the burden lifted. Or have you changed your mind?_ '

Leo kept his mouth pursed, thoughts dwelling on those in New York. Splinter and his poor health. Mikey and his forced smiles. April's struggle to keep face in the aftermath of her and Casey's separation. Hugh. Then there were the couples. Were Raph and Nia still together? Did Don continue to defend Melody?

Ugh, Melody. The mutant squeezed his knees.

' _Damn that cyborg. That is what you think, yes?_ '

Leo looked up with a frown. "You're the one in my head. You tell me."

' _I could. Just as_ _easily_ _as I could_ _say_ _a part of you—one that trusts Donatello—_ _believes you should give her another chance_ _. Not now, of course. After._ '

"After what? You rape my brain?" Shit. Leo ran a hand down his face; he sounded like Raphael.

' _You claim you wish to think straight again, that you cannot carry on as you have been. So face reality. Unless the issues are addressed, they will never be solved. In order to do that, you must let me in._ '

"Let you in to do what?"

' _Now you are asking the right questions._ ' Zaddir chuckled (in a way), turning towards the mutant with rounded eyes. ' _We will relive memories together._ '

"What?"

' _Do not panic. We will ease into them over months; maybe speak with a ghost or two. Until then, you must realize what Mozallo will entail. You will share your darkness and I will find the light hidden in it. It will help you cope with the nightmares and hallucinations. But before I do that, you must find your anchor._ '

"Wh—what's an anchor?"

' _It can be anything. An object, a mantra, a scent, an act, a song—something that grounds you before a manic attack sets in. What would keep you calm when faced with the past?_ '

"I…I don't know."

' _That is your next task, Leonardo. Then we can progress._ ' And so Zaddir disappeared without warning, leaving the mutant alone with his doubts in the darkness.


	19. Anchor

**A/N:** I'm in a giving spirit, LOL.

 _Duckie_ \- Someone ask for an anchor? /points at chapter title/ Anywho. Yeah. There's lots of trials going around and more to come...

 _Sciencegal_ \- Mortality sucks. Poor siblings. You know that well. :(

* * *

 **CHAPTER 19:** **ANCHOR**

Should Izel feel terrible for finding solace in not suffering alone? Because she could not fight her grin as Leonardo struggled to shape an Eiehuia.

"That cochotl?" she asked in English, leaning sideways on a blanket.

The turtle creature glanced down then held up his artwork.

Bits of curled wood was still attached, giving it a frayed appearance, and Izel cocked her head, asking, "Where face?"

"Huh?" Leo looked taken aback. "Can't you tell?"

"No."

"This is its eyes. See?" The creature pointed at two holes gouged into the Eiehuia but paused when his thumb brushed a protruding section of wood. The beak, perhaps, located opposite of its supposed eyes.

"Cochotl confused," Izel said with a laugh.

"Shut up." Leo blanched and tossed the totem into a basket of other rejects. It was full. "My hands will be stiff with splinters at this rate."

"You shave wood wrong."

"I hold things any way I can. Everything is so small."

"For you."

Leo snorted. "How do the Calpocatl make them seem easy? Even you have an army."

"Oh?" Izel gestured to the many Eiehuias that surrounded her body outside the artisan hut. "No great. Matlal and Sacnite say. Eiehuia child's work."

"Least they resemble animals."

Izel's smile grew lopsided as the turtle creature glanced at his reject pile. "Good Leo no carve because skill, hm?"

Leonardo grew rigid and his gaze dropped.

"No, no." Izel placed another block of wood in the creature's hands, clamped them together, and then shook his shoulder. Life returned to his expression, just what she wanted. "Moment by moment, Leonardo."

"Sorry." Leo met the skinhead's eyes, almost in shame. "I know I volunteered. But, honestly? I thought this would be easier."

"You control."

"Not really."

"Quema. See?" Izel reached into the reject basket to pick up a random Eiehuia. "You make, uh..." She studied the piece closer. "Pitzotl! Without Leo, no purpose."

"Doubtful. You would've—"

"Day not about me. Accept Eiehuia bring courage, make K'ekchi strong in sorrow. Start another."

Leo scoffed yet grinned. "You're about as bossy as your grandmother."

"Runs in blood."

"Apparently…Are you really going to give out these monstrosities?"

"Leo want to?"

"Please, don't."

"Coyo love Leo's Eiehuia. Carve for thanks?"

"Thanks for what? Dragging me into your village?"

Izel mirrored Leo's half-smile; it was so rare and welcomed, knowing she was one of few who ever saw it. "You make itzcuintli, dog, or tecolotl, owl."

"What do they mean?"

Love and marriage, respectively. Why warn him, though?

"Strong bond, friendship," the skinhead added. "Perfect for Coyo, yes?"

"Well, I…" Leo's cheeks darkened as he massaged the wood chunk between his hands. "Yo—you really think she'd like one?"

"Make Coyo...bright." Which was true. So why not pick examples for the creature to follow? "Look." She pointed at a fat tecolotl then tapped a tapped an itzciuntli, saying, "Owl. Dog."

"Does it matter which one I pick?"

"No."

"Alright."

Leo's eye ridges drew so close Izel swore he could hold a twig between them. He studied the Eiehuias with long consideration before finally settling on one: Monamictia, Marriage. He seemed satisfied with his choice, and Izel snickered as the turtle creature began shaping the wood with more care than the ones before. Their conversation dropped for what may have been seconds or minutes; Izel was too focused on the sound of children playing in the distance to count.

"Hey, Izel?" Leonardo blew shavings off his wood block. "Can I ask you something?"

The skinhead kept focused on painting thin lines over a flower-shaped Eiehuia, yet grunted for permission.

"You seem disinterested in your people's traditions," Leo followed up.

"That question?"

"An observation. I mean, you do the least amount of work possible, and act nothing like—"

"Other Calpocatl?" Izel glanced aside, just long enough to strike the creature with her bright eyes. "Tradition make life stale. Many pass down from before Ometeotl. Why uphold?"

"What sort of traditions came from before Ometeotl?"

"Sacrifice."

Leo cut into the wood a little too hard; his knife became wedged.

"Leo's offering first in many, many seasons," added Izel. She waited until the creature reclaimed his knife before continuing. "We no more take life, no more use red."

"Red's associated with sacrifices?"

"Red physical symbol."

"Of what?"

"Payment."

"Ah. Blood."

"It make sense. Once."

"What about now?"

"Now, K'ekchi believe Ometeotl, a god in whole universe. He expand beyond planet, guided Teo to us."

"So your tattoos—"

"Texohuitztli."

"Teh-show-wheats-lee?"

"Quema. The Blue Mark separate K'ekchi from other tribes, symbolize Eztaca, our pact. Blue represent Teo."

"They're more white than blue, but I see your point. Is—is that why your lips are blue too?"

Izel shook her head then rubbed her lips together to smooth the thick rouge over them. "Painted lips modern pleasure. Short hair, too."

"So it's your way of, what? Rebelling?"

"I refuse tribe's old standards of proper woman. Long hair for purity. Face clean of all except tattoos. Nurturing. Complacency." Izel pretended to gag. "Would you no despise role elders choose for you?"

Leo grew quiet, hands lowering to his lap. If his thoughts fell on his past, she could not blame him. His job as 'Jonin' sounded stressful, and he had darker things buried that he would not mention.

"It's hard," the creature whispered, "living up to an elder's expectations."

"Right. Why bother?"

"Still…" Leo's knife shaved the wood block—a tense, slow act. "It's harder to live up to your own expectations."

"No, I happy with self." Izel jabbed Leo with an elbow, although the teasing went ignored. Her grin became a frown as she drew a fatter line over her Eiehuia. "Expectations complex. People know who they want to be and what they want to do. Expectations sometimes too high, though. Set up disappointment."

Leonardo laughed a little too bitterly for Izel's comfort. The tip of his knife drew blood along his palm. Perhaps the pain kept him grounded to their conversation rather than his hallucinations.

"I know broken expectations," Izel added. "From Tatli, m—my father."

"Was he crazy, too?"

There was no easy answer. The man had not been insane—not in the sense that Leo used the word. Although, he had been out of his mind, must have been to leave his family like he did.

"War shatters people," Izel whispered.

"Not you."

"I artisan, not warrior."

"Unlike Coyo and I, huh?" Leo forced a chuckle that morphed into a sigh. He shifted on the blanket, knocking over several Eiehuias. He glanced at them yet did not apologize as he continued to carve his tecolotl.

"Leo"—Izel kept her tone casual—"no consider self warrior. Coyo either. Give no title. Hold no expectation. Just…be you. Is hard?"

"Honestly?" The mutant scoffed. "Back home I felt like I was always pretending, like I couldn't afford to be me."

"What about with K'ekchi?"

There was a long pause before Leo answered. "Lately, I don't feel like I need to fake anything."

"Good. Now finish Eiehuia. Coyo be back soon."

Leo laughed again; this time with more mirth. And Izel was content to let him be for the time being.

* * *

The Eiehuia felt heavy in Leonardo's palm, and he had no idea why. Coyolxauhqui wouldn't care about its poor craftsmanship, right? At least, she didn't seem like the type who would. So maybe Izel's words weighed on him. Something behind her smile when she explained the charm's meaning seemed misplaced—as if the owl held a deeper meaning.

' _Well, I already made it,_ ' thought Leo, hand clenching the wooden piece. ' _Whatever it represents can't be that far off, can it?_ '

Could it? What if it did? Would he offend Coyo? Embarrassed her or worse, made her cry? Ugh, was he sweating? Damn humidity!

"Ayotl! Ayotl!"

Several children collected around Leo at the village gate, their faces red and their dark hair disheveled from play. They grinned somewhat, and one taller than the others was pushed forward. He sent a dirty look over his shoulder, but Leo greeted him with a smile.

"Hey," he said, "I don't see you guys often. Grown-ups probably told you to avoid me for a while there, huh?"

The eldest child stared, bright eyes studious.

"Seems Huitzi likes to keep you guys in class. Does that get boring?" The boy continued to stare, so Leo added, "You don't understand a word, do you? He's your Mach-keech, Teacher, right? Uh, Huitzi, Machixquich, quema?"

The child nodded then licked his lips. He glanced over his shoulder again; this time, to grab something from his friends. A ball? It resembled straw woven into a tight cluster, and the boy seemed hesitant in offering it.

"For me?" the mutant asked.

"Notōcā Icnoyotl," the kid said. "Ulama?"

"Is Ulama a game?"

Icnoyotl stepped forward so far that Leo could smell the musty dirt from the ball. "Leonardo. Ulama."

"I—I'm sorry. I don't know—is Ulama a game? Does it mean 'ball'?"

The boy huffed, his face growing redder. He backpedaled, spoke to a heavier-set friend, and then waited as the children cleared a path between them. Leo watched as the ball dropped then met the kid' hip. It hit with such precision that it arched further than the mutant thought possible, and the heavier-set kid batted it back with his own hip. Back and forth the ball sailed, bouncing off the ground maybe twice until another set of boys intervened.

A fifth boy caught it not long after, holding it up while cheering, "Ulama!"

So, Ulama was a game. And they wanted Leonardo to play? They wanted to include him? The mutant stared at the kids' expectant faces, trying to hide his excitement behind a gentle look. He reached for the ball that Icnoyotl had taken back—with every intent of figuring out the rules as the game progressed—but then he froze like the humid weather had been thickened by ice and not water.

The kid's expression hardened, turned dead, just as Leo's fingers brushed the ball. "What are ya doin'?" he asked. Huh? How was Icnoyotl speaking English? "Playin' games? Really? Who says ya deserve any fun, _Freak_?"

"Do—Donald?" Leo whispered. His trembling hand curled. "H—how?"

"What is this? Neverland?" Icnoyotl's eyes narrowed, darkening from orange to brown. "Just think happy thoughts and ya can fly again? Yeah, sorry, wrong."

"But I've been—I—I—" Leo could hardly breathe, let alone justify himself.

Wait; since when had he started defending himself?

"Exactly." The kid's voice deepened so much it sent tingles through the mutant. His voice was not his own, but Donald's, Abigail's, Joseph's, Chandler's and more. "Think ya can ignore us just because ya're here? Just because some chick makes ya feel like there's some good left in ya? Or because that alien claims she can help? Ya don't deserve help, asshole."

"I—I know." But Leo wanted it anyway. Otherwise…

"What? Ya'll kill yerself? Good. Join us. It's where ya belong, burning alongside yer failures. Ya know it. So stop _fuckin'_ pretendin'."

"I—I'm not. I'm just—I want—"

Icnoyotl stepped closer—whether in reality or in Leo's mind, he couldn't be sure. He stepped back all the same and stopped breathing.

"Who gave ya permission to be happy?" the boy asked in his layered voice. "Ya shouldn't be doin' any of this. Ya'll just let these people down, too. Bet this boy is scared shitless, ya batty, fallen, son-of-a—"

"Leonardo!"

The world grew silent with a simple act. Five fingers squeezed Leonardo's bicep, and their familiarity reawakened the Amazon's humid heat. He was reminded of late nights talking, the Allum, Tetani paste spread with care, and kind sun-colored eyes—all in a split second that left him feeling like he had run a marathon. He struggled for air as his mind raced to catch up with reality and he glanced aside, where Coyolxauhqui stared up at him.

"Leo, cualli?" she whispered.

"Ye—yeah," he answered. He couldn't bring himself to face the children; their wonder-filled gazes that he sensed sank his stomach.

"Leo—"

"It's nothing, Coyo, really. I just—I—" The mutant tensed, mouth agape.

Why lie? Coyo knew how screwed up his mind was, but she smiled anyway. Like now. How could she do that, especially after what Zaddir insinuated happened to her over her lifetime? Did that mean he'd do the same one day? Maybe even beside her?

"Coyo tell boys Leo tired," the Chieftain said. She wrapped her arm around Leo's, although her short stature hardly counted as support. "Leo tell Coyo what wrong?"

Truthfully, the mutant didn't want to. But it would help, wouldn't it?

"We—we can talk," he answered.

"At Huelihca?"

Leo's tired eyes settled on Coyo when they passed the village gates. He nodded. The tree comforted him, and he would need as calm as possible to explain how the Chieftain might be his anchor.


	20. Memories

**A/N:** Merry be-late Christmas!

 _Sciencegal_ \- Izel is my Mikey of the rainforest. ;D

* * *

 **CHAPTER 20:** **MEMORIES**

Leonardo met Zaddir's eyes: two white pinpoints amongst Intzalan's darkness. "I found it," he told her.

' _So sure,_ ' Zaddir said. Her multi-voice laughed, echoing through the mutant's mind. ' _Is Coyo aware?_ '

"Well, ye—yeah." Leo scratched behind his neck and glanced aside. "After my...episode the other day, she insisted we talk. So I told her…everything."

' _Even how her touch grounded your sanity?_ '

He found it unnerving to admit—Coyo was just a woman—but he nodded anyway. "She said she felt honored."

' _Yet she is not here._ '

"I—I'm not ready for company, ya know? Maybe later she can join. For now?"

' _What have you brought then?_ '

Leo raised a hand towards Zaddir's blue-white light. Pinched between his thumb and forefinger, he held the Owl Eiehuia he had carved the day prior and the Languu leaned forward to study it like a near-sighted old lady.

' _A Monamictia? I—_ ' Zaddir straightened to almost a head taller than Leo. ' _I am honestly surprised._ '

"You and me both," the mutant countered. "Izel suggested I make Coyo a present. I chose this."

' _A marriage charm?_ '

"I didn't know it symbolized marriage. Alright? I thought it meant friendship. That's what Izel told me."

' _In a way she was not wrong._ '

"Still set me up for embarrassment. I swear the look Coyo gave just—ugh!" Leo ran his hands over his hot face when he remembered the Chieftain's beet-red cheeks and babbling. She about had a heart attack.

Zaddir chuckled over the mutant's grumbles. ' _It is not a bad memory,_ ' Figures she would sense that.

Leo sighed then shifted in his kneeling position as his skin cooled. "No," he whispered, "I told her I could use the charm for something else. My anchor, to remind me of her, to…"

' _Are you ready for your first session?_ '

The mutant looked up with controlled breath but unsteady muscles. "Hai."

' _Leonardo_ '—Zaddir leaned forward again—' _do not agree without conviction. You will guide me through what must be addressed. If you waver, so will I. And we may uproot memories you are unprepared to face. Now I ask again: are you ready?_ '

Leo squeezed the Eiehuia. Though wooden, it felt as heavy as stone, a perfect weight to keep the mutant's mind centered. He inhaled, nodded, and Zaddir's pinpoint eyes drew closer. He felt the heat from her invisible hands as they hovered over each side of his temples. The sensation resembled static electricity and it shot through his body in jolts.

' _Focus on a positive memory._ ' Zaddir spoke slowly. Or maybe the mutant struggled to keep up with real time. ' _When was the last moment you felt assured? Confident? Whole? Seek those feelings; the rest will fall into place._ '

Last time Leo felt whole? That had been ages ago. Before the EPF's rise in influence. Before Black Lotus. Before the Summers family. Before Mikey's kidnapping. He had been a teenager still, and Foot Ninjas had infested New York City. How ironic was it that he had been a better version of himself back when one of the Hamato's greatest enemies reigned?

' _Do not focus on why, Leonardo._ ' Zaddir's voice cut through Leo's mind in a painful pulse. ' _Embrace the emotions. Think of when._ '

When? When Splinter had dubbed him Jonin…

* * *

 _"Leonardo, my son." Splinter's snout curled up as veils of incense floated through his candle-lit bedroom. "I have spent many years considering who shall take on my mantel as leader. We are small, but because of this, our next clan head should work twice as hard as any other. Just as you do, Leonardo."_

 _Leo fought a grin yet failed. Why should he hide it? He had a right to be proud and lifted his chin, despite Raphael's glare._

 _"You have practiced Bushido diligently. Gi, Rectitude. Yuu, Courage. Jin, Benevolence. Rie, Respect. Shin, Honesty. Yo, Honor. Chuu, Loyalty. You not only know these teachings, you practice them as often as you breathe. They are part of you, and I could think of no better guide to leave you with."_

 _"You aren't going anywhere, Sensei," Leo interjected, smile strengthening._

 _"No," Splinter drawled. "Not soon. One day. And I will enter the afterlife easier, knowing you, Leonardo, will lead your brothers under these principles. You are rational, tempered, conserved—all traits of a fine Jonin. So it is with pleasure that I hand the title over."_

 _Splinter placed a paw on Leonardo's shoulder. The old rat had no medal to give, no ancient heirloom, scroll, or banner—only words. But those words weighed on the mutant's shoulders unlike any armor ever could._

* * *

Leo had respected the role back then; it had seemed glamorous, liberating, and he considered himself the only one capable of fulfilling it.

' _But you were wrong, weren't ya, Freak?_ '

Leo switched the Eiehuia from one hand to the other, twisting it.

' _Wise, Leonardo,_ ' Zaddir said. ' _Ignore Donald. Choose another memory._ '

So she knew who Donald was already? Perfect.

' _Leonardo!_ '

Right. Focus. Focus…

* * *

 _"We're the Four Musketeers! En garde and taste our fury!"_

 _"Mikey." Donatello glanced up from his invention to send his nine-year-old brother a dry look. "There were only three Musketeers."_

 _"Well, duh." Michelangelo jumped beside Don, poking his cheek until the young genius bared his gap-teeth. "We're four brothers, though. Three doesn't really work, does it? Come on, I thought you were smart."_

 _"I dun't wanna be named after some curly-wig, big hat losers in puffy shirts," added Raphael. He kicked a sandbag twice his height. It hardly moved and likely bruised his shin, but Leo knew the hothead trained with it more for show than anything._

 _"Have you been watching foreign movies again, Mikey?" asked Leo, straightening from his Kata._

 _"So? Donny downloaded them."_

 _"To make ya quiet," Raph spat. "Great job, Genius."_

 _"Not my fault the guy doesn't sleep."_

 _"Hey!" Mikey glanced between the glaring brothers. "Why's that bad?"_

 _"'Cuz one 'a these days, we want some peace."_

 _"You're one to talk, Raphy." The youngest snorted. "We spend hours listening to those dumb cop shows you like."_

 _"They ain't dumb."_

 _"And you annoyingly try to be like the main character."_

 _"Do not!"_

 _"You use his accent and everything!"_

 _"Well, it's nothin' like Leo's love for Captain Ryan."_

 _What did that mean? Leo's face soured as his brothers turned towards him and he reached behind his head to tighten his bandana-mask's knot._

 _"We shouldn't fight," he said. "We're training as a team, right?"_

 _"Some team," Raph replied._

 _Leo kept silent as the hothead beat the sandbag again then studied the other two brothers. Don sat on the Dojo's tatami floor with gadgets in his lap while Mikey half-listened to his walkman. If Splinter returned from his meditation early, he would surely be disappointed._

 _"Get up," Leo told them._

 _"Excuse me?" asked Don._

 _"Center room. Now." The eldest brother pulled his siblings by their arms so they stood side-by-side. Raph complained and Mike hid his walkman before it could be taken away, but they listened. "I know you'd rather be doing other stuff," Leo continued. "Katas are important, though. Feel the masks over your heads. Remember what they stand for. They mark our ninja-hood."_

 _Mikey giggled. "Ninja-hood."_

 _"This is serious. Sensei is training us to defeat the Shredder. For that, we must be united."_

 _"Ryan lover," Raph said while coughing into his hand. He earned a snicker from Mikey and smirked._

 _"We gotta work together," Leo added, "fight together. We're—"_

 _Mikey snapped his fingers, saying, "The Four Musketeers."_

 _"Brothers, Mike. Best friends. A team."_

 _"Like Musketeers."_

 _"Fine. Like Musketeers."_

 _"Teams need leaders," said Raph, arms crossed._

 _"I know," Leo countered._

 _"Guess ya think it's gunna be you."_

 _"That's Sensei's choice. No matter it, we'll still be brothers though, right?"_

 _Raph's scowl lightened under his Leo's growing smile and Mikey's cheers. He shrugged as Don nodded, which was as close to an agreement as the eldest Hamato turtle would ever get._

* * *

Back then, they had been so free. What Leo wouldn't give to be ignorant and naive again. Despite a decade of head-butting with Raphael, those times nurtured his soul. He had such big plans, drive, and confidence. Then, everything began to fall apart…

* * *

 _"Why do ya gotta be so damn self-righteous, Fearless?" Raphael snarled._

 _"Don't call me that," Leonardo countered. He squared his shoulders to exemplify the new height difference between them, yet no matter how many inches the Jonin gained, his hotheaded brother always acted taller._

 _"It's yer fault!" Raph screamed._

 _"Mikey—"_

 _"Was taken by Bishop. Fuckin' Bishop, Fearless! An' where were you? Watchin' fuckin' TV!"_

 _"He was never supposed to be topside," Leo said—a steady yet hoarse act. "He left. He broke protocol. He—"_

 _"Oh, so the blame's on Mike? Right, I'm sure he just sent up a flare 'n asked our favorite psycho agent ta take him on vacation. Maybe biopsy him for a little fun? Fillet his legs ta give him a nice metal bone surgery?"_

 _"Stop it."_

 _"I'm sure that's what our baby bro begged, too. Please, stop."_

 _"I'm serious, Raph."_

 _"Where was that seriousness when Mikey needed it? Hum? He asked ya ta meet him."_

 _"He's always asking me to do things."_

 _"An' this time, it could've saved him months 'a torture."_

 _Bile rose in the Jonin's throat as Raph stepped back. Whimpers sounded beyond the bedroom door at their side, where Donatello and April drained excess fluid from Michelangelo's sores. Each one brightened the gloss over Raph's eyes and when the youngest began sobbing, the hothead punched the hallway's brick wall._

 _"He's like this 'cuz 'a you," he spat._

 _"Raph—"_

 _"Ya let him down, Leo. Let us all down. This time, ya're just as guilty as Bishop."_

* * *

Leo struggled to catch his breath, except the air felt like liquid. He floundered—unsure if he was standing, sitting, or lying down—and gripped his Eiehuia so hard, he heard it crack. But it was too late; visions crushed his mind, one harder than the last.

* * *

 _Splinter hated how his sons fretted. Yet how could a son not worryfor their parent? Didn't the clan's health fall under Leo's responsibility as Jonin, as a leader? Perhaps over-caution drowned outreason. Perhaps Leo assumed too much. Still, he found himself succumbing to fear._

* * *

 _A foreign Chi filled the room, its waves rolling off Nia in pulses. They pushed Leo's spirit backward, sent tingles through his core. Had all this raw emotion been bottled inside Nia? It outshined Raph's Chi like a blue star to a red star, and Leo shivered, watching Splinter. The master rationalized with Nia, yet the harder he tried, the stronger the emotions churned. Until they discharged._

* * *

 _"I don't follow. How is a chart important?"_

 _"Because this chart deconstructs some intriguing DNA."_

 _"Intriguing how?"_

 _"Funny you should ask. I showed the DNA to a source for a second opinion. They agreed. While parts of it are human, other parts…aren't."_

 _"Ah—are you saying the DNA is mutant blood?"_

* * *

 _"Was that a stupid…way for me…to think?" Talking was difficult for the Jonin with his throat closed so tightly._

 _"No, my son," Splinter whispered. His voice shook as well._

 _"I've just…failed everybody. Nia. Her parents. April and Casey. Mikey. Don. Raph. You."_

 _"No," the father breathed, "no, Leonardo. You have not failed me. And I know your brothers and friends feel the same."_

 _"Even if they do, I don't." Leo could no longer speak; his throat denied him the privilege. And so, silent, Splinter captured his shaking son in a tight hug that broke his resolve not to sob._

* * *

October. Nia. Bishop. Why did these thoughts linger? The Hamatos had saved the artist. She was a rare highlight over the last few years, so why…?

' _Im—Impossible._ ' Zaddir staggered aside. It seemed strange for her to sound breathless, given that she didn't breathe like those on Earth. ' _Nia. Her name is Nia?_ '

That was it; Zaddir held onto the thoughts, not Leo. The Languu lowered herself then grabbed the mutant's shoulders. It was the first physical contact he ever had with the alien and it burned. He cursed, pulling away, but Zaddir's invisible fingers held tighter, shaking him.

' _You know her?_ ' she asked.

Leo flinched. "Wh—who? Nia?"

' _You have seen her. Helped her._ '

"Yes. Sh—she came to my clan. Why does that matter?"

' _She is a hybrid._ '

"Part alien, I know. I—I vaguely remember Mikey saying he knew what kind. Something about two guys when they were getting the Battle Shell back? I wasn't really there when he told me. It was just after Black Lotus. What was the name? Wait." Leo found Zaddir's eyes; the white dots seemed larger than usual. "It was Languu. She's part Languu."

' _She is my Quizzinteyo,_ ' Zaddir whispered—a small, echoing sound. ' _She is my brother's child._ '


	21. Ripple

**A/N:** We're halfway through the journey, Dudes and Dudettes. Hardcore stuff is just around the corner. ;D

 _Sciencegirl_ \- /starts singing It's a Small World Afterall/

 _musicluvr86_ \- OMG. You just made my week. Thank you, thank you! I'm ECSTATIC you've enjoyed the long journey thus-far and hope you will continue to enjoy it as it keeps progressing. I have lots in store. :D

* * *

 **CHAPTER 21:** **RIPPLE**

Wet Season had officially arrived and, with it, steady downpours that lasted for hours. The storms were hardly a surprise for Coyolxauhqui or Yolotli, but they had startled Leonardo a time or two.

"And I thought summer rains in New York were bad," the turtle-man muttered. He leaned back through the doorway of Coyo's personal hut, grimacing when Yo perched on his scalp and shook water off his bright feathers. "Ow," Leo hissed. But the cochotl only squawked.

"Summer gone," Coyo said. She wiggled her toes as fat raindrops left streaks over her dirty feet and breathed in the scat-like scent that the wet soil awakened. "Winter now. Coyo love winter."

"So far, me too," Leo added. "The humidity hasn't tried to suffocate me in weeks."

"Suff-oh—"

"Suffocate. Stop my breathing."

"How?"

"From the thick air. You didn't notice? You didn't feel heavy?"

Coyo's head cocked as she shared a look with Yo. It was true she breathed a little harder during Dry Season, but not enough to where she felt threatened or weighted.

"I see," continued Leo. "Native. Used to it. Got it. I mean, I'm pretty tolerant of weather, but Dry Season…sucks."

"Suck? Suck mean, uh." Coyo lacked the vocabulary to explain, so she made a 'fish face.'

The turtle-man smiled in turn, eyes crinkling with laughter. "Suck can also describe something unpleasant. It's slang in this context."

"Ah." The Chieftain scrunched her nose; she hated slang.

"So, how much longer do you think this rain will last?"

"Leo meet Zaddir, yes?"

"You gave me the message. Remember? The dream? She says she's recovered from that"—Leo shrugged—"shock last week."

Recovered? Not quite. Coyo still felt Zaddir's confusion, anger, and sorrow like a flat stone in her chest. It had eased over the last few days but remained, and the Chieftain hugged her knees to keep focused on Leonardo.

"Mozallo mean Coyo feel Zaddir, not know why," she said.

The lines over Leo's face softened as he sighed. "She wanted to wait to tell you. Just for a while."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Meanwhile, you have other things on your plate."

Eh? What plate?

"Sorry." Leo chuckled half-heartedly. "I mean you have other troubles. Between your shortening food supply, the sabotages around your borders, and Xelihuiyan receding, I'm surprised you have any time for…"

"For?"

Leo chuckled again with less heart, whispering, "This." He stared at the harsh rainfall ahead, voice barely audible. "You've been good to me right from the start. Why? How? You didn't know what I was, who I was, what I had done. And I clearly let you know I wanted to die."

"Inside Leo want death," Coyo said, frowning. "No outside. Body live."

"And that somehow makes me special?"

"Leo special! Coyo—" The Chieftain snapped her mouth shut then turned aside to ignore the red-brown eyes that often mesmerized her. "War hurt K'ekchi. Coyo want no more take, no pain. Want help. Want save. Even strange ayotl in mud."

"I could've been a danger to your people."

"Amo."

"How could you tell?"

"Coyo see sickness. Leo hurt, need aid, need…hope. How I leave him?" The Chieftain's attention fell on a water puddle gathering at her feet. She counted its ripples in hopes the turtle-man would drop the subject.

He turned sideways, back shell clanking against the wooden entryway. "Guess I find it weird," he said. "Back home, no one's ever tried as hard as you to be my friend. Not that I could afford trust. But that's the biggest difference between you and me, huh? I—I can't help seeing the danger in everything. While you see the positive, even in the broken. It's—I mean, I…I think that makes you special, too."

The rainfall lifted as Leonardo grew silent. When an ozomahtli howled in the distance, the turtle-man touched Coyolxauhqui's shoulder, and she buried her face against her knees—not from shame or frustration but because his large fingertips deepened the stone inside her chest. It stung, made her head dizzy with heat, and she swallowed, trying to keep her breath level.

"Coyo?"

The Chieftain inhaled, saying, "Cualli, cualli. Thank you." Leo retracted his hand when she nodded, and the loss left her frigid.

"You're meeting a neighbor tribe soon, right? When I go see Zaddir?"

"Pesto Tribe," whispered Coyo. "Coyo ask permission for hunt. Use Chieftain Xilonen's treaty. Citli's treaty."

"Your grandmother."

The Chieftain gave a slow nod, unwilling to explain further.

"Well"—Yo squawked as Leo rubbed his head—"you convinced me to work with Zaddir. I bet this other chief will listen, too."

' _Doubtful,_ ' Coyo thought. ' _The Pesto and K'ekchi have not spoken_ _in_ _generations. There's no guarantee they'll help._ '

"Rain stop," Coyo told Leo. "You seek Cochitta."

"Which is?"

The young woman watched the turtle-man stand, stretching her neck so Yo could perch on her shoulder. "Cochitta Languu garden. Allum home."

"So it's filled with alien plants and bugs? From Talkkik?"

"Quema. Cochitta beside Intzalan. Zaddir waits."

"Guess I'll go." Leo flashed a grin then stepped into the drizzle beyond the hut. "Totazkeh, Coyo."

Coyo dug her feet into the cold mud and mirrored his wave, unable to smile or understand why the increasing distance seemed greater than usual.

* * *

Cochitta was not what Leonardo expected, even for an alien garden. Its atmosphere was not only breathable but much cooler than the rainforest—a welcomed break from the hot, sticky air. Its darkness was lit by two mock moons suspended by something unseen, and its bioluminescent plant life glowed with variations of blue, white, and purple. Still, the mutant could only tell where to walk by following Zaddir.

"Do Languu hate the sun?" he asked. He slipped through a curtain of transparent, blue-veined leaves the size of his body and shivered as his foot sunk into something moist. "How does your garden grow without light?"

' _There is light,_ ' Zaddir answered. Call Leo crazy, but he no longer found it strange how her layered voice sounded close when she walked a yard ahead. ' _Everything inside Ixtli is lit this way, with replicas of stars and planets around Talkkik. All save for the entrance, that is._ '

"Ish-tl is your ship?"

' _The Eye, according to local lore. To them, it is an odd circle floating in an oblong lake. When_ _it_ _reality it is our shelter, our means of hiding from Earth's harsh sun._ '

"So the sun does hurt you."

' _The radiation is potent, its energy overstimulating. We cannot focus_ _under_ _it, and when_ _we_ _cannot_ _focus—_ '

"You lose balance. Guess that makes sense of why Nia's such a night owl." Zaddir let the conversation fall and slowed her speed, so Leo closed the space between them, saying, "Coyo was disappointed she had to stay."

The Languu nodded. ' _She sensed my imbalance through Mozallo._ _I will apologize. It must've been uncomfortable._ '

"Understandable."

' _I apologize to you as well._ '

"Me?"

' _I—I had lost control, touched you._ '

"Yeah, that." Leo rubbed his shoulder. It was tender, although the glossy sheen from where Zaddir gripped him had long-since faded. "It's alright."

' _No, it is not._ ' Zaddir approached a cluster of enormous white flowers, whose petals corkscrewed into a puffy tip as big as a dinner plate. She ran a fiery hand along its side without touching it, and its petals unwound with dancer-like grace. ' _I should not have let myself been so affected._ '

"That sort of shock's difficult to control though, right?" The Languu didn't answer, but her silence spoke volumes. Her shoulders slumped as she turned from the flower to continue down the pathway and Leo tagged along, nearly tripping over several vines that wiggled around him like snakes. "Is—is that what happens whenever Nia gets upset? The whole dimming lights and making our bodies tingle thing? Does she lose balance too?"

' _Of course, she does,_ ' Zaddir said. ' _She is Tlatlaco, half-way, a hybrid—forbidden. She…she should not exist. If other Quizzinteyo knew of her, they would see her killed._ '

"Hold it." Leo came to a stop, glaring at Zaddir's backside as a vine curled over his foot. "She's your niece, your vein, whatever. How could you—"

' _Tlatlaco always become Yohualli. Their Yolloyo is malformed or non-existent. Their sanity decays. They become monsters. It is blasphemy to create one._ '

"But your brother did."

The Languu spun and made a sound like a clicking tongue, even though she lacked one. ' _Languu do not have children or spouses. We have roles, a chain of life that is never broken or shifted. A family structure is very…human. My brother always had been smitten by their kind._ '

"Did he?" Leo jerked away from the vine when it stuck him with short barbs. "Did he fall in love with a human?"

' _Love, another human thing._ ' Zaddir seemed weary; the beads of light flowing through her slim body slowed. ' _They were both selfish. Thinking of their desires above their peoples' needs._ '

"Who did?"

' _My brother, Ekeinni, and Chieftain Tacapantzin._ '

"Wait. Coyo hasn't mentioned a Tacapantzin before."

' _Nor would she. Her mother Coatlicue inherited her role when Tacapantzin became a Calpollitopan, a deserter. They were sisters.'_

"If they were sisters then…" Leo's eyes widened. "Nia and Coyo are cousins?"

' _Ripples touch everything in the pound._ '

"What?"

Zaddir shook her head. ' _Just a phrase my people use. Will you tell Coyo she has other family?_ '

"Depends. Do I need to I worry about any alien army marching over the border to kill her?" The turtle-man formed a snide smile. For the first time in months, he felt defensive over someone other than himself, and he left Zaddir with little doubt about where he would stand on the matter should she betray him.

' _There is a reason I took so much time for myself,_ ' Zaddir countered. ' _I know what is necessary. I should report what I saw, lure Nia here, and show her mercy._ '

"Killing her is merciful?"

' _Many_ _Tlatlaco beg by the end. They know their lives are not what they were meant to be. Even without the Davvu, we could find a way to ease her suffering._ '

"What's a Davvu?"

' _Something that was taken seasons ago. An underdeveloped Yolloyo budded during a time of strife, a generation before our ship left Talkkik. It is a poison that can consume the sick and unbalance the healthiest Languu. It is our last resort._ '

"An—and something like that was just…swiped?" Leo half-scoffed. He knew the process must've been more involved than Zaddir made it seem, but he also couldn't fight a Mike-esque thought: maybe they should've invested in a stronger safe. "Okay, so, you haven't told anyone about Nia or me?"

' _It would cause unrest. And, honestly? Against everything my kind considers right…I want to see her live. Guess Ekeinni, and I have that in common. Or did. Do you—do you know how long she has been alone?_ '

"Well, she was adopted as a toddler. We thought those parents died too. Turns out they didn't. Then she just never left our clan. So I wouldn't say she's alone."

' _I saw it through your eyes._ ' Zaddir's layered voice broke. Should that be possible via a psychic connection? ' _Tlatlaco do not carry Quizzenteyo memories; they are half-formed Languu. Nia has had to walk her life, ignorant of what she is, where she came from. She knows nothing of our Yolloyo or Allum or Kokee, which means—_ ' Zaddir quivered, her white aura pulsing outwards. ' _My brother never taught her. He is gone. Tacapantzin is gone. Those fools got themselves killed, and that monster will not stop hunting their…creation until he has her again. Like the other one._ '

"Other?" whispered Leo. "Another hybrid? There are two?"

' _Zarr, a boy created from a disillusioned couple who found inspiration with my brother and his lover. The Tlatlaco, the child, ate his parents._ '

"Ex—excuse me. Did you say 'eat'?"

Slowly, Zaddir nodded, as if any admittance also damned Nia. ' _My niece is not to blame for what she is. She had no choice. Still, she is Tlatlaco. She should be watched._ '

"Then maybe you should visit her. Give her some pointers."

' _Pointers?_ '

"Yeah." Leo stepped forward with a smile and spread arms. "Teach her about the Languu—about her real father, second parent, whatever. She deserves to know. It could even help prevent her from becoming a Yohualli. Besides, you should meet her."

' _There are many dangers outside Ixtli, Leonardo,_ ' Zaddir whispered.

"Like Bishop? That bastard's universal at this point. But you know something? Danger is everywhere. Out there. In here. In—in this." Leo steeled himself as he tapped his skull and caught the Languu's pinpoint gaze. "We just have to make a choice."

' _About what?_ '

"Where the important risks lay. I—I'm not a fan of variables. I prefer order, knowing, predictability, assurance. That isn't life, though…is it?"

No, life was fluid. It was as Nenetl said, a river current—unpredictable like finding yourself in a compromising position, like being forced to chose the lesser of two evils, like enduring the worst tortures imaginable. The force swept Leonardo under the surface, and he hadn't been alone. His brothers had lived through the pain, too. As had Nia, Kaiya, Rupert, Coyo, and others. Since when did that become a comfort?

' _You shoulder too much, Leonardo,_ ' a single voice echoed in the mutant's head. Joseph? He hadn't spoken in weeks.

' _Oh, get off the fuckin' high horses, both 'a ya,_ ' Donald interjected. 'These _chicks are warpin' yers minds! Ya don't deserve—_ '

' _Coyolxauhqui?_ '

Leo jolted when Zaddir's layered voice overshadowed his ghosts. His limbs tingled, and his heart raced, but not from adrenaline. At least, not his.

"Zaddir, what's wrong?" he asked.

' _Coyolxauhqui is in pain._ ' And that was all the Languu said before she disappeared.


	22. Hesitation

**A/N:** My goal is to post a chapter a day. At least until New Years. We'll see how things go.

 _Sciencegal_ \- Leo needs breaks lol

* * *

 **CHAPTER 22:** **HESITENCE**

Xander could barely keep his eyes open, but he'd be damned if he succumbed to the Barrier's pressure now. He leaned against a fat tree, straining to focus on two factions of Amazonian natives through a drizzle. They stood face-to-face, one painted in red, the other in blue, and all were armed with spears. The Mexican wasn't suicidal enough to approach them, especially in his current state, but he had ears and knowledge of the Nahuatl language.

"Pesto Chieftain Xiptl, Co—uh—I— _we_ —greet you in the name of Ometeotl," a young voice said. Well, she sounded young, hesitant, although her full figure suggested she may've been as old as Beverly.

"In the name of nature's deities, we greet you, K'ekchi Chieftain Coyolxauhqui," an old man replied. He bowed his bald head with stoic features. "Your tribe has not crossed the river in generations."

"Yes, so thank you for not killing my messenger." Coyolxauhqui smiled, even though her tone trembled.

"He said you needed help. What is it you need?"

"We, uh, _I_ know it is presumptuous to ask. But we— _my people_ —need food."

A brief moment passed then Xiptl burst into a chuckle and tapped his spear on the ground. "Your god not treating you well? He would let you starve?"

"No; your people steal from our river!" another man interjected from the K'ekchi side. He stepped forward, yet was pulled back by a grey-hair warrior and Coyolxauhqui.

"At ease, Tlaloc," his chief told him. She then lifted her chin—it resembled an act Xander's baby cousin used when claiming to be 'old enough.' "Our god has must keep a balance," she said.

"Too busy with the universe for you?"

Coyolxauhqui sucked on her lips, bringing her spear closer.

"No matter," Xiptl continued. "Let us settle this matter quickly. K'ekchi borders have always felt unnerving."

' _Tell me about it,_ ' Xander thought with a scoff. He rubbed his face then blinked, but his hazy vision only doubled.

"Yes, our—our borders," Coyolxauhqui said. She glanced over her shoulder and Xan followed her gaze to a shoulder-high stone shaped into a hunched, oblong figure.

' _Is—is that a Barrier marker?_ ' The Hispanic stared into the statue's face until its glowing eyes became clear. ' _It is. Does that mean I'm…_ '

Outside the Barrier. It had moved, shrunk. So why did the man feel more sore than he did after a week's worth of bear hugs from Rook?

"Our land is changing," Coyolxauhqui added. "Another, uh, tribe has ruined our hunting grounds, scared off the game."

"Towards us. We noticed." The Pesto Chieftain ran a hand through the hair below his feathered headband. "This is old news. Many tribes know of this age-long war. And we want nothing to do with it."

"Please"—Coyolxauhqui stepped forward, despite the crude spears that tipped her way—"let us hunt the outskirts. Only for what we need."

"Sounds familiar. That is what Chieftain Eztli said before he murdered my great-grandfather over a few pitzol."

"I give you my word, Chieftain. I am not the sum of my predecessors."

"That is exactly what we are," Xiptl spat. "How different have you been from those before you? You continue to war, to isolate your tribe, to follow your Ometeotl."

"I honestly believe in Ometeotl."

"And where has he led you? To the brink of extinction? Your tribe was once great. And what has it been reduced to? A hundred members? Maybe two?"

Coyolxauhqui kept quiet, and Xander's vision spun. He doubled over, breathless, lightheaded. He fought a scream, yet the throbs felt like ice picks in his brain—thin, sharp pains that bombarded him with images and sounds. A woman's scream. Fearful eyes in a mirror. A train whistle. Broken glass. A sound like snapping bones.

' _Fuck_ _!_ ' he thought. He shook his head, blinked. Still, he could no longer see the rainforest. ' _This—this isn't happening. It went away. It's not coming back. It can't! It—_ '

Something pointed struck his side. A root? A spear? He looked down, yet saw nothing, save a couch strained with red and brown. Warm moisture dripped down his hip. A high-pitch whirl sped by his head—a sudden, short noise that reawakened the Hispanic to the wet soil, musky air, and an army of blue-tattooed natives. They surrounded him, one bleeding from the shoulder, and he scrambled backward through the mud that suctioned his arms with every move. He reached for his plasma gun, but a toned man kicked it under a fern.

"We have no deal, Chieftain!" Xiptl cried. He and his followers kept distant, and through a slim break between Coyolxauhqui and the one named Tlaloc, Xander watched them back away. "Xolotl haunts the K'ekchi. The Pesto Tribe will _not_ follow you to the underworld!"

"Wait!" Coyolxauhqui screamed. She twisted, a hand raised, yet the Pesto people retreated before she could stand. "Please," she whispered, "the children…"

"You"—Tlaloc turned his anger on Xander with a smooth, metal spear—"filthy Yaoqui. Why are you here?"

"Are you the one setting traps?" the gray-haired warrior asked. He pushed the Mexican deeper into the mud with his foot. "Have you driven our food away?"

"Barrier's shrinking, huh?" Xander asked in Nahuatl. They all seemed surprised that he understood. Made sense; they had no idea his grandparents had been keen on preserving their Amazonian roots.

"I have seen you inside Xelihuiyan," a female warrior added. "How?"

"Trade secret," Xander answered. He chuckled then coughed as the weight on his chest increased.

"Do you understand your actions?" Coyolxauhqui questioned. What was with the pitiful look?

Xan sneered, saying, "We all have orders. I'm no different."

"Just kill him," Tlaloc said.

"Rashness is the way of folly, Tlaloc," countered the gray-haired warrior.

"Tatli"—Tlaloc cringed—"Yaolt, he is too dangerous to keep in the village."

Yaolt met his son's stare, bright eyes stony. "He walks Xelihuiyan. If other Yaoqui can as well, we must discover why."

A one way ticket to becoming some natives' private guinea pig? No thank you.

Xander's leg swung to fold around Tlaloc's spear. The weapon's tip dug into his wounded side, but he held firm until the warrior was disarmed. He followed up with a strike against Yaolt's shin then rolled to his feet as the man faltered. He dove for his plasma gun; it was his only chance against thirty-some strong force. But his bad leg caved and Tlaloc interceded with a punch that made his nose crunch.

No! He couldn't lose. He couldn't die. Liz was at home. He wouldn't let Leukemia take her while all alone, no matter the cost.

Everything stopped—the rainfall, the warriors, the spears, Xander's heart. Then, with Lizbeth at the forefront of the man's thoughts, it all sped up. An invisible force swelled outwards with such force that the rain sprayed sideways in a sphere. It sent the natives sailing, twisting, flipping, and screaming. Xander's body burned as they hit tree trunks, but he knew he couldn't linger. He struggled to his knees, double vision returning.

' _Xander Ruiz Rodriguez_ _Santiagola_ _la Arroyo Hyde, you do not want this._ '

Xander looked up at a lanky body with skin so translucent its blue-white veins were visible. It wore no clothes, although it was easy to figure out why; Languu lacked any genitals to hide.

"Wh—who?" The Mexican swallowed. "How the fuck are you in my head, Jincho? Get out!"

' _Your head is the reason I can hear you so loudly,_ ' the alien replied. Its freakish voice sounded like every person Xan had ever known, all speaking at once. He could tell by Liz's soft undertone and the gruffness of his dead mother.

"Doubt it," Xander whispered. "Your kind doesn't even come out during the day. I'm just going crazy. My mind isn't used to—"

' _Psychic influxes?_ '

"I'm _not_ psychic."

' _You deny it even outside your superior's realm of influence?_ '

"Piss off!" Xander stood, fighting against lethargy and pain. He must be hallucinating from one too many trips inside the Barrier. The Jincho would leave if he moved, reported to Agent Rook.

' _And Rook will reward you? Or will he pressure you for an answer as to how you knocked the entire Tonalquizca force out cold?_ '

"What do you care?" And why was he talking to a figment of his imagination?

' _You know I am real, Xander. Just as you know the truth behind why you can walk inside our walls._ '

"Actually"—Xan stumbled—"I don't know that."

The alien hummed. ' _You do not share the other's motives. You are not here for greed or wrath or revenge. You are here for love. For Lizbeth._ '

"Don't say her name!"

' _You think you will see her again if you remain on Rook's good side?_ ' the stupid thing continued. It glowed brighter in the scarce rain. ' _He cannot heal her. I can._ '

"Wh—" Xan found it hard to breathe. "What?"

' _If I received permission from others of my kind, I could._ '

"Bullshit."

' _It is true. There is an element in my veins. It restores cells._ '

"Oh?" The man smirked. "Guess I know what I'll ask the scientists to mine first. When Rook levels your little sanctuary to the ground."

' _You are scared._ '

The Languu rendered every step Xander took backward moot by following him. He glared at its black-pit eyes and stopped when his foot clanked against something. His plasma gun. Perfect. He kicked it upwards, catching it and poising it at the alien's head with precision.

' _You will be discovered,_ ' it continued.

"And why the hell does that concern you?"

The Languu paused, allowing distance to grow between it and the man. ' _What is the most profound thing a being can do?_ ' it asked. But it didn't wait for an answer. ' _Help another soul. Change a life. Is that not what you are seeking to accomplish with your lover?_ '

"I…" Xan realized how unsteady his body had grown when he glanced down. Forget it; he didn't have time to listen to the ravings of a crazy alien or enough tenacity to shield himself from a dying Languu. So he turned and ran without a second thought.

* * *

"Wait, Coyo, let me get that for you."

Coyolxauhqui watched Leonardo, hissing when her sore body fell back on her floor mat. "Thank you," she whispered as he handed over a canteen.

"Would you rather have water?" he asked.

Coyo never answered; she uncorked the canteen then brought it to her split lips. Even though the alcohol burned the cuts inside her mouth, she kept chugging until her throat grew numb and her lungs deflated. With the last gulp, she coughed, wiping her chin and cringing at her tender ribs.

Leo waited a moment before speaking again. "I'm sorry for what happened," he said.

"No Leo fault," Coyo replied. She re-corked the canteen then turned her focus to the fire pit's flames. "Coyo fault."

"Don't start the blame game. It wasn't your fault."

If that were so, then why did the Chieftain feel as if she had sentenced her entire tribe to a slow death?

"Look"—the turtle-man sat at Coyo's feet—"we can be sorry without blaming ourselves. I—I have to believe that. If I'm going to get any better, I have to. So you…"

Leo trailed off with a slow exhale, and the woman's skin tightened with heat either from the Chicha or the fire. "Coyo fail," she said. "Tribe no better. Worse. Refused. Now we fight Pesto for food, hunt Yaoqui land."

"Outside Xelihuiyan?"

"Xelihuiyan shrinking."

"Is that what you, uh…see?" Leo caught the young woman's gaze with a gentle look only for a second.

"K'ekchi ancestors touch by Teo. We see what others cannot. But eyes no tell Coyo Xelihuiyan weak. She feel it. All K'ekchi feel it. We dwindle. Teo no have energy. They die too. Without us, Xelihuiyan useless."

"Right. You protect the Languu and the Languu charge those…"

"Tepiani."

Leo nodded twice. "That's the word Huitzi used. It's also the name of those statues my sister collects."

"Xelihuiyan's guardian stones much bigger. We help Teo charge them, and, yes, they come closer to village."

"If the perimeter becomes too small…"

Coyo shook her head, gripping her bloody knees as the fire crackled.

"Coy—"

" Pesto Chieftain right," the young woman interjected. Her lower jaw trembled and she glared at the crackling flames. "Consider Coyo bloodline. Great-Colli make war with Yaoqui and allies. Citli 'solve' trouble with isolation. Auitl run away. T—T—Tatli go insane. And Mantli want me to throw away emotion. Wha—?" Coyo tried to swallow yet failed. "What good Coyo do? Huitzi better chief. He no accept. He sick and...and when he gone—"

Coyo was unable to finish; just imagining life without her brother left her empty, raw. No one could stand beside her with the same comfort he gave, not even Izel, and she feared the space would remain vacant forever.

"I no leader," she whispered. "Tonalquizca hurt. Why? Because I no want death. I—I want reason, to help. I…"

"Have you ever killed anyone, Coyo?"

"Once." The Chieftain closed her heavy eyes in hopes Leo would drop the subject, but he touched her foot, reminded her she wasn't alone.

"I know what you're going through," he said, a little stern. "That pain is the reason I'm here. When I arrived last Wet Season"—the turtle-man paused, maybe because he realized that was long ago—"I wanted to rot. I've been numb, hurt, angry, an—and my mind's fractured. Who knows if that will ever heal? But…I'm trying. You know who convinced me to do that?"

Coyo's eyes felt bloated and stung and watered, yet she opened them anyway. Leo stared back, his red-brown gaze enrapturing. She lost her voice as it bore into her, so she shook her head in answer to his question.

He smiled, saying, "You. You started…everything. Picked me up. Welcomed me. Introduced me to your tribe, Zaddir. Made me feel like a person. I know, I know; you think that's odd. But you also understand what it's like when others look at you as a leader. You become a symbol, someone who can't afford flaws. We have them, though. We have so many, and"—the turtle-man rubbed the sides of his bald head—"we need help to cope. If you won't speak with your brother or Izel or even the Elders…I'm here."

"You?"

"Why not? We talk about almost everything else." Leo's grip on Coyo's foot tightened as his smile grew. She fought the urge to return it, except it was as compelling as his stare and he showed no signs of leaving. "You've been hiding," he added. "Maybe not in the same way Nia did. Close, though. Guess that's what you cousins have in common."

"Co—cousins?"

"Yeah. Turns out, my brother's girlfriend is actually your runaway aunt's daughter. Zaddir confirmed it. And she's gone through a lot, stuff I haven't told you about. Actually." The turtle-man straightened, still touching his friend. "Would you like to hear her story?"

"Please," Coyo whispered. "Tell Coyo."


	23. Soul

**A/N:** OMG. You guys made my day! Thank you!

 _DuckiePray_ \- Uh, surprise? Bet you were wondering where my plot twists were hiding. LOL So much to come from...him. And it may not be all bad. You'll see. *cackles*

 _musicluvr86_ \- Big Bro Mode is fun to write; I missed it. Also, love hurts.

 _Sciencegal_ \- You know.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 23:** **SOUL**

Leonardo ran a thumb along his cracked Owl Eiehuia, inhaling. "What's a soul?" he asked.

' _No_ ,' answered Zaddir. She floated through Intzalan's darkness and pressured the mutant with pinpoint pupils. ' _What do you consider a soul? Earthlings have an opinion as varied as their faces. Is it the part that prevents you from acting against what your society deems wrong? Your belief? Your dreams? Or is it the physical manifestation of your life force? Does it live in your heart? Mind? Or do pieces of it reside throughout your body, scattered from muscle to organ? Is it tangible? Intangible? What?_ '

Leo steadied his Lotus Position, despite the temptation to dismiss the Languu's orders and follow her flame-like Chi as it circled him. "That's a hard question," he said.

' _Today is the day we face what's hard, Leonardo. We trained for this moment, and I must know._ '

"Why?" Suddenly, the mutant felt as if the last few weeks of careful exposure to his nightmares had never happened and he squeezed his Eiehuia as his throat tightened.

The alien's aura brightened against the black, veins lined with solid white instead of dots. _'Languu believe our soul is our Yolloyo. They're our center, our unity. Without them, our current forms would be impossible. But Earthlings?_ ' Zaddir either scoffed or cut off a laugh. ' _They are complicated. Complicated yet fragile. If we lose a limb, we regenerate._ _You lose_ _limbs, you could die. With no heart or liver or stomach, everything inside you shuts down. You have bodies without consciousness—vegetables, you call them? And bodies with_ _minds_ _that are_ _sick,_ _tortured. Like yours._ '

Leo's expression steeled as Zaddir passed, her light disappearing towards the side.

' _One thing you all agree on, however,_ ' the Languu added, ' _is that when one no longer feels_ _alive,_ _when in despair, they swear something real has been stolen from them._ '

"Their soul."

' _When I sensed you through Coyolxauhqui, I wondered how someone so set on death could survive so much pain. Like your body would not give up. Does that make your body your soul?_ '

"I don't have much choice in what my body survives anymore."

Zaddir paused; Leo felt her heat against his shoulder when her layered voice slowed. ' _What those villains call IgRs are what give Languu their long lifespan. We share this in common now, to an extent, but it is not why you lived. Through the rage, guilt, self-loathing, and sorrow, something survived. A fraction of light from the past._ '

"You think that'll help?" the mutant said, words choking him. "I won't ever be who I used to be."

' _It's not a remnant of your old self,_ ' the Languu answered. She began floating again as casual as her tone. ' _It_ _isn't even hope_ _or will._ '

"Wh—what is it then?"

' _Family._ '

Leo swallowed hard. Guess it was about time they were brought up, although he didn't consider them the reason he—

' _Of_ _course,_ _they are,_ ' Zaddir interjected.

The mutant jerked his head up to narrow his eyes. "Were you just—?"

Zaddir waved an arm, its afterimages creating an arch. ' _You blamed them, Leonardo, on some level. Had they been faster, had they cared more, they would've found you before anyone died. Right?_ '

"It wasn't their fault. They—" Leo glanced down at his white-knuckled fist. It trembled.

' _You couldn't stand being home, looking at their faces. They showed such concern when they had been the reason you suffered so long._ '

That wasn't true! Well, maybe. When Leo considered it, he had often switched between two extremes at home: numbness and rage. And what triggered him? Smiles. Things his clan did to convince him everything would be okay or that they could return to normal, that their lives hadn't changed since they were fifteen. They were pretending, all except Splinter, who sent him away. Had that been for Leo's benefit or his?

The mutant growled, teeth clenched. "What's the point, Zaddir?"

' _To accept that your anger is not unjustified,_ ' Zaddir whispered—a haunting sound. ' _Be upset, Leonardo. Admit it. Embrace it. And know that despite it, the light, your family, is the reason you still live. You can return home._ '

Return? The mutant scoffed, although the idea sounded less abstract and obscene than usual. Perhaps his clan would be excited to see him. Even if he hadn't written lately. Did they think him dead? Maybe Huitzi would let him send a letter later.

' _Focus, Leonardo._ '

"On what?" The mutant huffed, easing his fist that felt molded to his Owl Eiehuia. "We were talking about souls. Now family. And—"

' _Anchor_.'

Leo inhaled through his nose then closed his eyes. He focused on the charm's texture—the chunky, frayed outside broken by chalk-like paint. It reminded him of the splinter that stabbed his thumb when Coyolxauhqui forced the charm back at him and he almost smiled at the memory of her flustered expression.

' _Everything is connected, Leonardo,_ ' Zaddir continued. ' _We live in a world of cause and effect. Because of this, you can never be who you once were before Black Lotus. Nor should you want to be. You should want better, to be stronger. Which may not mean what you think. So you must decide where your soul resides, and focus on that light to keep it from dying any further._ '

"Yo—you want me to focus on my clan, who you just reminded me I'm kind'a pissed at?" Leo asked with uneven lips. "So my soul doesn't die?"

Zaddir's oblong head shook. ' _Not your family, what they represent, love. Keeping that at the back of your mind will make this process easier._ '

"I thought that's what the anchor was for."

' _Do you feel strong enough with only a charm in your hand?_ '

Leo avoided Zaddir's pit-eyes, silent while she sat behind him. The mutant was no stranger to the process; he kept poised when he felt heat against his temples and electricity through his skull.

"I," he whispered, "I honestly don't know where my soul is. I haven't felt it in…forever."

' _It is there,_ ' Zaddir whispered back. ' _Fighting. You'll see._ '

The electricity intensified, rousing pain and a smug-faced brunette in white. Exactly what Leo expected, yet nothing ever prepared him for Donald.

"Wow," Donald said. He glanced around Intzalan with a sour look. "Having an alien keep me out? Douche move there, Freak."

Leo kept composed, saying, "I know what you are."

"Uh, yeah." The man's scarred face scrunched. "Dead. Whose fault was that again?"

 _A gargle sounded in his throat as Stephens retracted a blade, and when Donald collapsed, the wound across his torso gushed._

'Inhaling, Leo forced the bloody memory away and met the brunette's smirk. "It was yours," he whispered. "You egged on Lombardo. You started the riot, got haughty with Stephens. You killed yourself."

"What choice did I have? _We_ have?" Donald spread his arms then scoffed. "The little army ya promised never came."

"They came."

"Not before half the hall bit the dust, and ya and that little brat had yer DNA rewritten."

"I know, but…" The mutant could hardly breathe, let alone speak up. "They came. Too late, I admit, but they didn't forget. They saved us—"

"Excuse me, _us_?" Donald laughed—a stretched, sardonic sound that cut through Leo. "No, no. Saved _you_. And those other whiners. From who again? Stephens? Wasn't that Gray, though, not yer bros? Dumb bitch, am I right? Actin' like she had a chance at redemption or some shit."

Donald was right. Did the cyborgs think a last-minute betrayal would even the score? Sure, Nass had been programmed into attacking Leo and Fall had helped the others. But they had also kidnapped people. A little pain on their part wouldn't bring their victims back to life or restore their bodies. That kind of slight could never be fixed with one act, yet Donatello defended them. Hell, he had taken a lethal shot for Gray, hadn't he?

 _Donatello shoved Stephens with his staff, and the maniac laughed as his fat body rolled into a pile of rubble. When Donny faced Gray, a syringe protruded from his shoulder, shaft deep in his flesh. It wasn't long before he dropped and Gray roared._

The cyborg saved Donny at what cost? Recro-12. She had changed the genius without consent, just as she had helped change Leo and Kaiya. And Don defended her.

"How could he?" Donald asked. His growl shot adrenalin through the mutant, pulsing, hot.

Leo shook as he unclenched his Eiehuia to squeeze it between both his palms. "I know nothing about her," he whispered.

"What's there to know? She's a soulless bitch, a robot. She beat ya, stood by as Lombardo 'n Stephens experimented. Remember Matthew? She fuckin' compact him like a totaled car! Ya think there's anythin' human left inside _that_?"

"There must be."

"Why?"

"Because Donny believes in her." The mutant's shakes worsened. Yet despite his bitter memories, resentment, and cotton throat, he evened his tone, focusing on the pained love the genius spoke with whenever he mentioned the cyborg. "I don't trust Gray," he said. "I trust Don. He's cautious, devoted, a good judge of character with no patience for cruel people."

"How does that explain Gray then?"

"Like I said, I don't know her."

"So everythin' will be chill when ya head back? Ya'll accept her?" The brunette ran a hand through his hair, tugging its long curls. "That's stupid."

Leo shook his head in one short motion. "I won't accept her. Yet. But Donny…Donny loves her."

"And that makes everything okay?"

"No. But it makes it easier to give her a chance."

"Why the fuck would ya give that to her in the first place?"

"You know."

"How could I possibly know?"

Donald stooped with wild eyes and reached for Leonardo. The mutant never flinched. Unlike the fractured charm that left indents against his palms, the man wasn't real. Even if he were, Leo wore no gear for him to grab, and his dirty fingers stopped short of the mutant's shoulders.

' _Very good, Leonardo,_ ' Zaddir interjected. ' _Now, face it. Admit it._ '

"I know what you are," Leo added in an undertone. "I—I know why you won't let me sleep or have one good thought for more than a second. You haunt me because I think I deserve it. I—I—I shouldn't be alive. I failed. I failed, and you won't let me forget because…You're me, my guilt. You just wear Donald's face."

"So?" Donald sneered. "What are ya gunna do about it, Freak?"

"Live," Leo whispered. The man's brows furrowed; it seemed the mutant surprised even himself. "If my body won't let me die, it's my only choice."

"Maybe ya haven't tried hard enough to die."

"Maybe. Doesn't matter. I—I can't stand the hollowness anymore. I want my soul back."

"What soul?"

"It's there, Leonardo," a new voice butted in. Joseph sat beside the mutant, smiling as he placed a hand over Leo's pectoral scute. It felt real, more real than Donald's bad breath, and brought a calmness that slowed the mutant's heart.

"You're my hope," Leo told him.

The Chinese man's smile strengthened.

"Bullshit," Donald added. "He's just here as another bad reminder. Like Abigail and Chandler and me."

"He doesn't have to believe that," Joseph countered. "Do you, Leo?"

"I—" Leo wanted to say yes; Joseph proved it. Yet he shook his head. "You're all part of me," he said. "And I will face every side. In time."

' _Correct._ ' The electricity through Leo's head pulsated with Zaddir's eagerness. ' _Do you know now? Have you found it again?_ '

Found what? His soul? Leonardo looked down at the Owl Eiehuia and studied its yellow eyes. To him, a soul was purpose, a reason to live, to move forward. Who had given him reason for anything lately? Coyolxauhqui. She never gave up, despite Leo's cynicism. She kept reaching towards him, physically and spiritually, and when the mutant thought of her, his tranquility grew tenfold.

' _Leonardo_.'

Leo waved a three-fingered hand at Zaddir behind him. "I—I can't say yet," he told her. "I think my soul is…changing? But."

' _You sense it._ '

"Yeah, I…I do."

' _Then you have succeeded for today_.'

What an odd word, succeeded. It stuck with Leonardo as Zaddir's lowered her hot hands. The buzzing in his brain ebbed as Joseph and Donald faded, and he felt light as he rose from the ground.

' _There will be more to face,_ ' Zaddir added.

Leo half-smiled up at the Languu. "I can do it," he said. "I mean, we've come this far."

' _Yes._ ' Zaddir's voice softened. ' _And now someone is waiting for you._ '

* * *

Coyolxauhqui waved at Leonardo the moment she spotted his green body along the trail that led into K'ekchi Village. She approached him before he reached its gates, a little winded and sore.

"Coyo," Leo said, "is everything alright?"

"Quema, quema," Coyo answered. Her bruised ribs burned from running, but they way Leo watched her left little room for pain or concern. "Attack many sun cycles before."

"It was, like, less than a month ago."

"Tlan?"

Leo sighed, features softening with a smile. "Just be careful. Please."

Coyo lost her voice. Huitzi had asked the same thing, yet he never made her stomach churn like the turtle-man did. She nodded, wordless, then forced her attention on the pathway.

"You sure you're feeling well?" Leo continued. "You look pale."

"Coyo happy," the young woman said. "Felt Zaddir. Leo do good?"

"Actually? I did damn well, I think." The mutant's chuckle drew Coyo's gaze. She watched him without turning her head, his profile striking against the yellowish sky. "I feel…peaceful. It's weird."

"Weird?"

"Strange. I mean, even before, uh"—he drew in a sharp breath—"everything, I rarely felt this content. Not since I was a teenager."

"Leo better," Coyo said. She found Leo's grin infectious and mirrored it. "Zaddir help."

"She does. And even though we have more progress to make, I—I dunno. I feel like it'll get easier." The turtle-man glanced down at Coyo and his smile froze as if doing so was a mistake. His looked away, clearing his throat as his pace slowed. "I've been trying to find myself for a long time. Today, Zaddir made me realize that can only happen if I reclaim my soul. And I realized on the way here that means I…I must fight."

"Fight?" Coyo whispered. Her joy fell as she stopped along the pathway, watching the turtle-man do likewise.

"Fighting is part of me," he said. "There's a ghost inside, who says otherwise, but it's true. Once, I felt alive when I was at the head of my team, protecting and guiding. I want to feel that again."

Coyo balled her fists, jaw clenched. "Leo purpose war? Death?"

"No. In the sense of being needed as a leader and a brother. You of all people should understand."

"Coyo no see difference."

"You should." Leo stepped forward to reach for Coyo's shoulder. His voice lowered, his red-brown eyes set on her. "You're Chieftain. Nothing will change that. Nia realized when she could no longer run. Why can't you?"

"War pain."

"And it won't stop unless you make it. There's too much at stake at this point. Which means the Tonalquizca need to get back out there."

"Leo—"

"I'll help." Leo's assurance left Coyo slack-jawed, and his thumb sent tingles through her body as he massaged her collarbone. "I'm not in the best shape," he added. "But neither are you. So why not do it together?"

"Together?" the woman whispered.

Leo nodded then he reclaimed his hand with a sheepish grin. "I want to train again. With you and your warriors. I—I want to fight beside you. Would that be acceptable?"

"Quema," Coyo whispered. She had no idea why she agreed so readily, just that when Leo spoke, she felt capable of the impossible. Even of leading.


	24. Forever

**A/N:** Gya, my babies. Bare with me.

 _DuckiePray_ \- You of all people know love can be found in dark places. *hugs*

 _Sciencegal_ \- Those two need a lot of things...lol.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 24:** **FOREVER**

Leonardo's shoulder hit the ground with a force that sprayed mud in his face and whitened his vision. "Dammit," he muttered, spitting out an iron taste.

"Enough," Tlaloc said. "Return to village, Ayotl."

"No." Leo sat up to regard the warrior who rounded him. "The others are staying."

"Others improve."

"I disarmed you this time, didn't I?"

Tlaloc's dirty face soured as he reclaimed the spear that his opponent had knocked away. "You soft," he said. "No strength."

"How can you decide that? Coyo—"

"Call you Tonalquizca. Tonalquizca earn title. Earn hard when you Ayotl on back, yes?"

The mutant sighed yet said nothing. His body had weakened over the last year, long before Hupaxque bit him, and he hadn't given thought to any exercise since he had mutilated that boar and buried his katanas…

"Return," continued Tlaloc. "Yaoqui no Tonalquizca."

"You've been saying that for weeks," Leo countered. "What do you have against me? I mean, Coyo trusts me. Has for a long time."

The warrior brushed aside his damp hair with a sigh. "I know."

"So what is it?" Fresh and dried mud caked the mutant's body, which squished and flaked as he staggered to his feet. "You call me Yaoqui, but I'm _not_ like them."

"Oh?"

"No!"

"You no foreign? You stranger to violence?"

"Look, I know who your enemies are, their true name, their top leader. All because my clan has been in your position. Just for less time."

"This make us kin? Hm?" Tlaloc shook his head, glancing towards the trodden arena where senior warriors sparred with younger recruits. "Why Ayotl join?" he asked. "Coyo bring you in village, save from death's door. K'ekchi call you Teoayotl. You indulge, cause distress at Xochicuicatl, no give back when people suffer. You _take_ , Leonardo, and Coyo…" Tlaloc trailed off with another shake of his head.

The longer he remained silent, the crustier Leo's skin felt. His joints crackled as he shifted, and when he realized Tlaloc would not speak any further, he said, "You're right. Th—this might be more than I deserve. Actually, no; it is. And I understand your feelings." Tlaloc looked near laughter, but before he retaliated, the mutant continued, "Where I'm from, I was Jonin, Chieftain."

"And you left?"

Leo met Tlaloc's discriminating look, stone-faced. "Last year my clan had a, uh, a guest, who frustrated me in so many ways. Now?"

Now, Leo was in Nia's Converse. How funny.

"You think K'ekchi and Ayotl people same?" Tlaloc questioned.

"More than you realize," Leo answered. "And I consider that guest a sister now."

"Ayotl hope for brotherhood too?

"Nia earned her place. So can I."

"Why? You no stay forever."

The mutant caught the warrior's gaze with a half-smile, wordless. He couldn't refute the point; the village was little more than a rehabilitation center that Coyo had drafted him into. His true life laid in New York City, and one day he'd leave the rainforest and its natives behind…

"Tlaloc!" a croaky voice cried.

Leonardo stepped back as Tonalquizca superior Nopaltzin stomped across the muddy plain. While the Amazonian only reached Leo's shoulder in height, he, like Splinter, held a power that had winded the mutant on several occasions. He spoke in Nahuatl, and Tlaloc ducked his head, mumbling in return. Had the younger warrior been reprimanded again?

"Nopaltzin upset son argue."

"Coyo?" Leo asked. He looked down at the short woman, who watched the tribesmen with a frown. "When'd you get here?"

"Talk with Quizzinteyo short."

"Is everything alright?"

Coyolxauqui's frown deepened. "Leo walk?"

"Yeah," Leo glanced at Tlaloc then Coyo, "just let me get cleaned up first."

* * *

"Coyo sorry," Coyolxauhqui said, huffing. "Tlaloc—"

"Makes sense."

"He do?" The young woman eyed Leonardo and almost tripped over a fallen branch along the dirt pathway that surrounded K'ekchi Village.

The turtle-man caught her by the forearm, steadying her before adding, "I can't blame him. He's protective."

"Coyo too."

"You're more"—Leo released Coyo with an uneven grin—"trusting. Had our roles been reversed, had I found you in New York, I admit, I would've acted like Tlaloc."

Would he not have helped? Why?

"Do—don't give me that look," Leo continued. He climbed a rotten trunk that blocked the path then pulled the young woman up by the hand. "It's the truth. You have a bigger heart than both I and Tlaloc put together. Like my brother Mikey."

"Mikey." Coyo hummed as she recalled stories about the Hamato brothers. "Mikey fun."

"He'd like you." The lopsided smile across the turtle-man's face grew strained then fell. Maybe he remembered how far away from home he was. "Anyway," Leo tightened his grip on Coyo before guiding her across the tree and jumping off its top, "You wanted to talk?"

Coyo nodded, focused more on the thick sensation of mud between her toes rather than her friend's concern. "Quizzinteyo worry."

"For Xelihuiyan?"

"Quema. Yaoqui make traps at border, inside."

"Think they' were set by the same agent who attacked earlier this month? The psychic?"

Psychic: a being that defied multiple natural laws. Leonardo had described the Yaoqui as a 'Telekinetic,' a man capable of moving objects with his mind. It sounded supernatural, although the woman had no right to claim it impossible, just problematic and unsettling.

"Psychic reason Quizzinteyo fear," Coyo muttered. "Xelihuiyan weak. And Zaddir…"

"Something wrong with Zaddir?

"She…distracted."

"By me."

Coyo barely heard Leo's voice, and she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. "Languu one whole," she said. "Division, even in head, cause fracture. Wh—when Zaddir help Coyo, Elders and Quizzinteyo agree, help hold burden."

"But I'm a secret."

"Two Mozallo hard. Secrecy hard. Harm Zaddir."

"So, what? Should she stop—"

Coyo caught Leo by the hand to stare up at him. "Too late. Leo feel her, yes? Her struggle? Her want? Her shame?"

The turtle-man gave a slow nod, saying, "More so since, well, since she helped me talk with…"

"Zaddir help, she bond, Leonardo. Mozallo no be stopped, no be hidden. She linked. But Leo and Coyo—"

"What about us?"

Coyo swallowed, stricken more by Leo's red-brown eyes than the heated palm that her fingers barely spanned across. They had an annoying power to quiet her nowadays, especially in the daylight, when they resembled eclipsed suns.

"Coyo?" Leo asked. "What about us?"

"Zaddir want two Mozallo as one," the woman whispered.

"One? Wh—what does that mean?"

"Mean"—Coyo's tight throat choked her—"we bond together, share memory."

"All three of us?"

"Zaddir say full bond better."

"For her."

"Zaddir do much, Leonardo. Bond hurt Coyo, too."

Leo's gaze widened a fraction as his clammy fingers squeezed her own. "I'd see your past like you would see mine."

"Quema."

"Are you okay with that?"

Coyo shook her head yet smiled. "It pain," she whispered. "But Coyo owe Zaddir; she—" The Chieftain stopped herself with a weak laugh.

"Sorry," Leo whispered in return. Coyo sent the turtle-man a questioning look. "This would probably be easier with someone from your tribe," he continued. "Not some frazzled outsider who hardly knows ten words of Nahuatl."

"Amo. Coyo glad it Leo. He understand." Coyo kept smiling, despite a want of tears or the way the turtle-man's hand trembled against hers. She maintained composure even when Leo touched her check.

"Sometimes, it's hard to believe I'm here," he said. "Like all this acceptance is a dream, that you're…" Leo's fingertips trailed down the side of Coyo's neck in slow motion as his expression softened. "You've been a great friend, Coyo. There's so much about you that I admire, and it's hard to imagine…"

"Imagine?"

"I—" The turtle-man clamped his mouth shut then stepped back, reclaiming both his hands. "Nothing lasts forever, does it?" he muttered. Had the question been rhetorical? Leo left no time for an answer, adding, "I'll do it. Whenever you and Zaddir are ready, let me know."

"Yes," Coyo replied. She mirrored her friend's grin, and neither mentioned the pain behind both acts.

* * *

A fire was never necessary for warmth among the K'ekchi. It did, however, gather Huitzilopochtli's loved ones around for a meal.

"Coyo, you are late!" Izel yelled in Nahuatl. The skinhead puckered her face and wagged a wooden spoon at the Chieftain who crossed Tlahcoyan's center.

"We set no time," Coyolxauhqui answered. She stopped at a stew pot before Huitzi, Izel, and Cihuapatli Nenetl, with Leonardo beside her.

"Or were you too busy with our ayotl to remember? Went on another walk, hum?"

Huitzi chuckled as his sister reddened. She gave Leonardo a sideglance then stole the spoon from her best friend to test their supper.

"I'm feeling cheated on," Izel went on to say.

"Do not," Coyo countered.

"You never take me out anymore," Izel added.

"Do too."

"Do not!"

Leonardo took a seat between Huitzi and Nenetl, in part because the elder pulled him down by the edge of his back shell. The turtle-man grunted when his butt hit the blanket they shared, and Huitzi scooted aside as Izel aided Coyo in spicing the stew.

"Tiotaqui, Leonardo," Nenetle said.

"Uh," Leonardo straightened, "t—ti-oh-tah-kee, Nenetl."

"Quen timohuica?"

"Huh? Oh. Cualli. Huan tah?"

Nenetle's smile deepened her many wrinkles. "Cualli. Leonardo"—the elder switched from Nahuatl to English—"punctuation need help."

"Figured." The turtle-man rubbed his neck, sighing.

"But words better, Cuamahui," Huitzi told him.

"Not enough to hold a conversation with locals."

"You can ask about their day."

Leonardo sent the man a dry look.

"Come now," Nenetle interjected. Shriveled lips quirked, she tapped the back of her hand against the tecolotl Eiehuia that hung from the turtle-man's neck. "Why young man need words when art speak for him?"

Sniggers erupted across the group, sans from two friends, who grew flush.

"Th—that incident was Izel's fault," Leonardo said.

The skinhead—mid-slurp—shrugged, swallowed, and then spoke, "I no lie. Owl mean strong friendship."

"A marriage proposal is more than friendship, Izel."

"Coyo like, though, no?" Izel grinned so widely her misshapen teeth took up half her face.

"Coyo heart panic," Coyo added with slanted eyes. She stole the wooden spoon from her best friend and stirred the stew, although she likely did so absentmindedly.

"Heart hurt from shock or disappointment?" Izel chortled when Coyo wagged the spoon and Huitzi could tell why. The Chieftain was hardly intimating when she blushed like a girl being courted.

"Now Leonardo wears it," said Nenetl. "In wait, perhaps?"

"Wh—what?" Leonardo shook his head. "No, no, no. It's, uh, nothing like that. It's just my anchor, a reminder."

"Reminder of what, I wonder." The old woman shared a mischevious look with her granddaughter, and Huitzilopochtli's amusement dwindled as the younger women scooped stew into wooden bowels.

By tribe standards, Coyolxauhqui should be married with at least one child. Huitzi would feel more content in his passing if that were the case. However, his sister lacked both, even though he had begged on multiple accounts for her to consider Tlaloc's advances.

' _I will leave her,_ ' the man thought, a hand against his bony ribcage. ' _In the same_ _way_ _Mantli left us. And if she cannot become a proper leader, she will be the last of our bloodline._ '

Why did she not give that reality proper consideration? Although Tlaloc was abrasive, he and Coyo had grown up together, and the warrior did care. Still, Coyo kept him at a distance, founded Huelicha to avoid any other would-be suitors and responsibilities. That is until she brought Leonardo there.

' _She has always been difficult._ _Of all the people to let close, why…?_ '

Huitzi glanced aside. Leonardo accepted his bowl and thanked Coyo in Nahuatl. The two stared a little longer than normal, looking down with smiles when Izel offered Huitzi his stew.

' _The Ayotl is an ally._ ' The man cradled his bowl and watched chunks of vegetables float across its surface. ' _A strong character, who has striven to overcome his ghosts. Unlike Tatli. But he has a life in New York City. Once healed, when Zaddir finishes her work…he will return._ '

The truth was: Leonardo's company would not last forever. And yet Huitzi feared Coyo would hold onto the hope of him staying regardless.

"Oi, Huitzi!"

The man met Izel's gaze. "Yes?"

"How is it?" she asked.

Huitzi stared.

"The stew, Idiot. How is the stew?"

"Ah. Good."

"…You have not tasted it."

"No, no, I did." Huitzi slurped from his bowl, sucking down pieces of vegetable and salty broth. For all the things his sister and Izel did wrong, meals were the one thing they excelled at, and he was satisfied with the flavor lingering on his taste buds. "See?" he added. "Delicious."

The young women returned to their bowels with snorts.

"Hey, can I, uh, can I ask you guys something?" Leonardo questioned.

"Feel free, young man," Nenetl answered.

The turtle-man shifted on the blanket to face her. "Usually, dinner is just smaller groups eating around their own fires. What do you think of me inviting Tlaloc tonight?"

"Tlaloc?"

"I—I don't want to be his enemy. I want him to trust me, know me better. It would make working with him in the Tonalquizca easier."

"Easy and Tlaloc no go together," Nenetl said, white brows creased. But she nodded. "I no object. If Nopaltzin invite as well."

"Agreed," Izel interjected, "Nopaltzin keep Tlaloc tame. Not that we cannot tame him."

"If you must," Coyo added in a grumble.

Leonardo waited for Huitzi to nod before standing. The man sensed he would need to make room for his sister between him and the turtle-man as soon as he returned, should the warriors accept the invitation.


	25. Mozallo

**A/N:** Forgive the extensive flashbacks. Just keep in mind their disorienting with reason.

 _DuckiePray_ \- Don't write off Tlaloc, Friend. You know people aren't always what they seem. /points to Xander/

 _Sceincegal_ \- Gotta build back up what he lost in every way!

* * *

 **CHAPTER 25:** **MOZALLO**

Sensei, how is the clan? I know you can't answer, but…I wonder.

It's been a long time. Months, I think. Hope you weren't too concerned when the mail stopped. Something happened. I shouldn't downplay it; it was life-changing. Still…How should I put this? I can't reveal much; that was part of the agreement I had made with the man who will send this letter. And it feels weird writing after so long.

Uh, let's see. I've met some people. Natives. They've been good to me. Better than I deserve, frankly. At the start, I had been ungrateful and hostile. I wanted nothing to do with them, but that's all changed. I don't know exactly when or how, just that everything is tied to a core group. And a bird. One, in particular, stands out. A human that is.

She'll remain nameless. Another condition. That's okay; she's more than a name or title, anyway. She's a friend. You and Mike would love her. She's funny and compassionate, if a little pushy, and…geez, should this feel awkward through words? To be honest, I'm unsure what I should say except that I owe her. A lot. Even though I was a stranger at my worst, she never shied away. She pulled me from a dark place, and while I'm not out completely, she has my hand…

I needed time to sort things out. Now that the chatter in my head isn't as paralyzing, my thoughts linger on home and this place. On her. I'm writing again because I'm confused. I should be excited, yet the more I consider my return, the deeper my stomach sinks. Why? That won't be for a while; I will repay her generosity before then. We have another trial to face together soon. It makes it all the worse because it'll bring us closer, whether we want it to or not, and whenever we grow closer, I notice her more. Like she's a force of nature rather than a person. It's unsettling, really. I wish you could reply to—

"Mo-eesh-pahntz-ink-oh, Leo."

Leonardo's quill hovered over his parchment on his lap. The tip dripped ink at the letter's bottom, but he ignored the mistake to meet Coyolxauhqui's stare, knowing her polite excuse meant something troubled her. The tribeswoman shifted inside the Library hut's doorway, hand clenched around the curtain that hung from it. She then glanced at the mutant's work. He would've felt a need to hide it had it not been written in Japanese, but it was.

So he casually set the writing materials aside, saying, "Has something happened with Zaddir or the Tonalquizca?"

"A—Amo," answered Coyo.

"Then what is it?"

The Chieftain inhaled—a crisp, long act. "I'm ready."

"For?"

"Mozallo, Leonardo. Coyo ready for Mozallo."

* * *

"Is this necessary?" Leonardo asked Zaddir. He stood beside Coyolxauhqui inside Intzalan, and the glow from the Languu's body revealed a frown on the turtle-man's face. "What does it matter if Coyo and I bond? You're connected with us either way."

' _Understand, Leonardo,_ ' Zaddir said. Perhaps it was the circumstance, but Coyo heard her parents' voices saturate the alien's multi-tone. ' _Mozallos_ _with you and Coyo are like ropes tied to each arm. The energy travels in opposing directions, always shifting. It is strenuous._ '

"But will bonding really help?"

Zaddir paused, back turned and lights slowing. ' _I cannot say. This has never happened before. Even so, we must try. The energy cycle must be completed. Please. Without_ _this—_ '

"Quizzinteyo claim Zaddir Yohualli," Coyo interjected. "Coyo no let happen."

"You've done a lot, Zaddir," added Leo. "Don't think me ungrateful, but you've been in my head. Coyo shouldn't have to take on…" The turtle-man trailed off with an unreadable expression. Was he angry? Scared? He had every reason to be, yet Coyo sensed a deeper hesitation and spared a smile when he glanced at her.

"Coyo okay," she said. "Is sorry."

Leo's eye ridges knitted. "For what?"

"Same as Leo."

' _Sit_ '—Zaddir's command made Coyo jump—' _face_ _one another and hold hands._ '

As Leo kneeled, he sent the alien an odd look, asking, "Hold hands?"

"No ask," Coyo answered while doing likewise.

Her scarred legs touched the turtle-man's once seated, and she found herself stricken by their healthy state. To think, they once bent sideways. Now they grew thicker with muscles for each day that he trained with the Tonalquizca. Nice, defined muscles that almost spanned the width of her thighs.

' _Coyolxauhqui_.' Zaddir held back a chuckle only the young woman could sense. For now.

Coyo glanced up, curly hair bouncing, then took Leonardo's hands. She smiled when his eye ridges knitted tighter, but was distracted by how calloused and warm his palms felt. They enveloped her, leaving her feeling small and vulnerable. It was a strange sensation, which kept her quiet while Zaddir sat down as well.

' _To bond, you must reflect on prominent milestones in your lifetimes,_ ' the Languu said. Heat from her ghostly hand strengthened when she touched the duo's foreheads. It stung, although somehow Leo's grip felt hotter. ' _Consider what defines you, what you value, what has shaped you. And attempt to find a common thread to tie your minds together._ '

How did one decide something so profound? Should Coyo consider those she grew up with? Teachers, maybe? Family?

"We have walked similar paths," Leonardo said. "As leaders."

"Coyo no leader," Coyolxauhqui replied. Her fingers curled below the turtle-man's large hands. "Mantli know."

"You never talk about your mother. Or father, come to think of it. Yet you'll listen to stories of my clan for hours."

Was Leo insinuating Coyo should show him the reason why? How would that bond them? Their childhoods were as different as night and day, and she hated remembering her mother's lifeless voice…

* * *

 _Coatlicue reclaimed her hand as she stepped along the high hill. Coyo reached forward—her mother could not see any roots or rocks—but the older woman walked with her chin raised. From behind, she resembled a skeleton draped with over-sized clothes lined with feathers, and every bone that stretched her_ _blotchy_ _skin sickened Coyo._

" _Your mercy will lead to our extinction," Coatlicue said. "Our hunting grounds are running dry. The Yaoqui's numbers replenish faster than we can raise new warriors. The Teo_ _are_ _tethered like old trees. And you are last in a_ _line_ _of great Chieftains."_

" _There is another, Huitzi," Coyo added with clenched fists._

" _And he would lead if he did not carry Omipalan as I do."_

" _He does not have—"_

 _Coatlicue spun and glared at her daughter with yellowed, unseeing eyes. "When will the denial cease, Child? Huitzi and I will decay, join Tonalquizca Atl alongside Ometeotl. And you will be alone." The Chieftain's voice cracked as her lower jaw trembled. She wanted to_ _cry,_ _and Coyo wished for once, she would forsake the rule about public weakness. "Your duty is to your people and Eztaca," Coatlicue continued. "Do what is best for them. Not yourself."_

* * *

Even until death, Coatlicue thought her daughter as selfish as Tacapantzin. And maybe she was. But why should she be tasked with making such terrible choices? Because she was born into a royal bloodline?

"You had no choice." Was that Leonardo's voice? "I had wanted to lead while you…"

Coyo kept her eyes closed. Warmth replaced Coatlicue's dying face. The late Chieftain faded from thought as a new image emerged. Three other turtle-men stood facing her. Or was she Leonardo? She felt a sense of pride she knew wasn't her own, and stood taller than she ever had before. Although nothing was said, she somehow understood their smiles, their respect. Was this what it felt like to be admired?

"Leadership is a tough balance," Leo continued. "I—I've failed in that. Many times. Worst of all was when I wasn't there for Mikey."

"Mikey?" whispered Coyo, throat tight.

* * *

 _Leonardo knew he would be in for another long night of sore muscles and insomnia the moment Michelangelo hugged him. The Jonin balanced on the edge of his little brother's twin-sized bed, one leg over its side, and kept one arm wrapped_ _around_ _the youngest's shoulders. He noticed the trembles through Mikey's body. They had slowed yet persisted. They likely would continue for a few months._

' _Raph is right; this is my fault,' Leo thought, focusing on his brother's contorted expression. Yeah, he'd be waking from another nightmare soon, and the reason why brought Leo's gaze to his brother's legs. Thick stitches ran from his outer ankles up towards the bridge of his shell like zippers. They marked where Bishop had cut him open, grafted metal over his bones. '_ I waited no more than ten minutes. Ten minutes. Now he's… _'_

 _Damaged. He refused to shower alone because water reminded him of the containment tank that had kept him trapped. He lacked an appetite, so his weak state had digressed into Pneumonia. He had no will to play video games or joke. He was quiet, only mumbling something about a 'Christina' in his sleep._

 _And it was all Leonardo's fault._

* * *

"I've let down loved ones, too," Leo said. Coyo understood the pain in his tone. It left her breathless as if it were her own. "Raph wouldn't talk with me. Don lost himself in caring for Mikey. All because of my poor choice."

"Mikey heal. Family help."

"It took months. And left physical and emotional scars."

"Scars better than death. If parents"—the young woman cringed—"if my family together…"

"You would feel stronger."

How did Leonardo know that? Mozallo? Could he see everything? Every secret? Every fear? Did he count how many lonely days Coyolxauhqui spent at Huelihca? Understand why she felt drawn to Zaddir's nature? Could he hear her mother's final words or feel the sorrow that bonded her and Izel like sisters?

The Calpocatl was not unscathed, either; she had watched her father Patli succumb to despair many seasons ago. Coyo recalled the putrid scent from his body in the Dry Season heat after he slit his throat. Izel had cradled him for hours before Coyo found them, and all this not long after her mother Citlalmina died in battle.

Is that the legacy Coatlicue left behind—one of death, orphans, and warriors driven mad by violence? Coyo saw no future if they continued to fight. That is why her people needed a better leader, someone worthy.

' _Coyolxauhqui,_ ' Zaddir sounded panicked, ' _do not succumb to these emotions. We are not yet ready_ _for—_ '

The truth? What did it matter? Coyo would never be ready—not to be Chieftain, not to save her people, not even to admit how dire the K'ekchi's position was. All shame and self-loathing morphed into a sensation that locked the young woman's limbs. She remembered it well: the disembodied sense of overwhelming adrenaline. It had left her powerless under the assault of her own father...

* * *

" _How did you find us?" Atl_ _asked,_ _spear raised. Blood coated its tip, and Coyolxauhqui watched as red dribbled down its shaft. It was blood from his closest comrades, his friends, yet he sneered as if it were cursed. "I should have known," the warrior added. "You sneaky bastards always know where we are. You infiltrated us. How?"_

" _A—Atl," Coyo said. "_ _Tatli_ _, please."_

" _I am not your father."_

 _Atl charged, and Coyo dodged. A knick along her calf made her hiss, but she knew better than to stop. She kept running, rounding fallen bodies of both K'ekchi and Yaoqui._

" _Tatli_ _," she cried, "it is Coyo!"_

" _Lies!"_

 _Atl tossed his spear. It struck the girl's shoulder blade so fiercely, it spun her twice. She landed on her back, the spear's head piercing under her collarbone with a squishing noise. The weapon swayed, anchored at the base by Coyo's body, and_ _blood_ _sprinkled her face as she glanced upwards._

 _Atl brandished a flint knife at her feet, his wild eyes bright. "I knew you would come," he whispered. "You had been on the outside for so long no one considered you could ever make it inside. How did you do it? How did you bypass Xelihuiyan?"_

" _I did not," Coyo answered. She scooted_ _backward_ _on her good arm. "I have been touched by the Teo through my genes, your genes."_

" _You are_ notmy _child!"_

" _I am. I see Xelihuiyan, too. It is yellow-white. Makes our sky seem unique."_

 _Atl paused. His long face scrunched his tattoos, but the more he stared, the darker his eyes became. "How could you know that?"_

" _Because I am your daughter."_

" _That cannot be. My daughter will not fight. She would never be here."_

" _I had no choice. I needed to come because your mind—"_

" _Has never revealed so much. It is opened. All those voices finally make sense."_

" _No!" Coyo hissed, tugging at the spear protruding from her shoulder. It shot pain through her nerves, yet she smiled. "Tatli, those voices are not real. Never have been. Me? I am real. So please, listen. Pu—put down the knife."_

" _Yes,_ _" Atl spoke to the side_ _at_ _someone unseen. "It seems I cannot even trust my own people."_

" _Wh—what? No! You can. Trust me; I am your daughter."_

" _I"—the man shook his balding head—"I know what you are. What you all are. You disguised yourself with modern sorcery. Entered our ranks. Attacked!"_

" _No." Coyo dared not glance at the fallen Tonalquizca, sitting up further. "I am Coyolxauhqui, not a Yaoqui!"_

" _You would say anything not to die. And die you must."_

 _Atl charged again with his weapon lifted_ _high,_ _and Coyo's body acted without consent. She pulled the spear from her shoulder, poised its butt on the ground as the man's momentum impaled him through his left breast. Coyo watched his torn skin slide down the stained, metal shaft. His wide eyes glossed over, he croaked, and she swore she heard his heart stop. Then, everything dropped—his knife, his arms, his body, and her tears._

* * *

Coyo had watched the life leave both her parents, witnessed numerous pyre funerals. Soon, her brother would face a similar fate. So in the end, what did it matter? Why move forward when those she loved were all but dead already?

' _Coyolxauhqui! Leonardo!_ ' Zaddir's voice was muddled as if she was underwater or drowned beneath the cold sensation that left Coyo paralyzed and sweating.

* * *

 _They're dead, Leonardo, and there's nothing you could do about it. You assured them your brothers would help. But they didn't, did they? You lied. Because you're weak, a failure. You couldn't save one boy. An old man. Or two women literally within reach. It was right none of them believed you._

" _You will be in my position one day, Coyolxauhqui," said Coatlicue. "By then, you must contain your emotions."_

 _That would be a miserable life, Coyolxauhqui decided. To hide how hurt,_ _terrified_ _or enraged she felt would be like wearing a grim mask. Just like the_ _one_ _Coatlicue wore as she stared into the_ _pyre_ _stretching towards Xelihuiyan._

 _Maybe that was his_ _reality_ _._ _He_ _was never meant to save. Is that why he kept failing? Is that why his best was rarely good enough? He tried overcoming that fault, yet failed at that, too._

" _Please." Izel looked up from where she sat in her father's thick blood. Insects buzzed around his slit throat, and red smears over Izel's face cracked from age. "Coyo," she croaked. "Save him."_

" _Science dictates risk, Melody!" Stephen's whimsy fell victim to impatience, but only for a moment. "Don't fret; Recro-12 will suit them beautifully. Now, if you would secure their_ _gag_ _sticks? We wouldn't want them swallowing their tongues, would we?"_

" _Coyo." Huitzi smiled, although his_ _labored_ _breath made him seem weary. "Please. If you avoid this any longer, I"—the man repressed a cough—"I will no longer be among the living to help."_

" _If Mikey nevah walks again, Fearless, that's on you!_ _Ya_ _hear me?"_

" _Execute him, Coyolxauhqui!"_

" _You are Jonin, my son. That is no easy burden."_

" _The child will never learn. She is too much like Tacapantzin."_

" _I'm sorry. So sorry."_

" _Ho—how can I face losing you too?"_

* * *

"Zaddir, make it stop!" Coyolxauhqui screamed. But the memories persisted with the fury of a river current. They overwhelmed her, bringing with them voices and emotions that made her temples throb. The woman gasped in hopes of air, yet found no oxygen, just darkness and mud.


	26. Complete

**A/N:** Here ya are, darlings, first post of the year!

 _Duckie_ \- Coyo is emotionally strong, whether she believes it or not. I wasn't sure what happened to her father until I started that scene and, my gosh, my heart. They got more ahead of them, too...*gets you a cup of coffee for the long haul*

 _Sciencegal_ \- Coyo tries to act better than what she is. She and Mike have that in common. *pats babies*

 _D_ \- Ah, yes, I know it's a load LOL. Do enjoy! Leo needed this own adventure. :D

* * *

 **CHAPTER 26:** **COMPLETE**

Huitzilopochtli ran a finger over his sister's cheek. It was hot and he glared at the Languu responsible. "You should not have let Coyo—"

' _I convinced Coyo to do this, actually,_ ' Zaddir interrupted. Her pinpoint eyes lingered on the two bodies laid unconscious outside Intzalan's entrance, shifting only when Izel huffed.

"Our village is not an option," the skinhead said, "the Elders would want an explanation, even Nenetl."

' _And they cannot enter Ihiyoyahualli,_ ' Zaddir added.

Huitzi's eyes narrowed further. "Because you acted without permission."

' _We accepted the risks,_ ' Zaddir countered. Her veins of light seemed to glow brighter in the dusk.

"We?"

' _Huitzilopochtli, this was our choice. I…I begged them._ _If we three remained disconnected, if our energy cycle were not complete…_ '

"Zaddir," Izel said, "I understand how you can fool the Elders. I have done it for years. But the Quizzinteyo? How have you kept them ignorant?"

The Languu stiffened. ' _I blocked myself._ '

"As in, broke away from the hive?"

' _Temporarily._ ' Zaddir's multi-voice lowered until Huitzi heard little more than his sister's voice. ' _I wanted to help. Leonardo's pain was deafening. Like Coyolxauhqui's had once been._ '

"Mozallo is dangerous," Huitzi said. "Coyo should have never given you her burdens, and she should have kept Leonardo away."

' _I agreed to Coyolxauhqui's plea because her people would rather her loss be weaponized, not eased._ '

"Loss is an excellent motivator in war."

' _Coyo is not the kind to be motivated by negativity._ '

"Kindness in war—"

' _Is her way. Why must you force change instead of accentuating what makes her human?_ "

"Uh"—Izel's voice cut through the tension as she waved—"hi, sorry. But back to our Ayotl and Chieftain. You said they were stuck in their shared consciousness?"

The Languu nodded. ' _It is a world built by their memories when they…lost themselves. Mainly by Coyolxauhqui._ '

"You lead them there," Huitzi added. "Why not lead them back?"

"Languu are forbidden from entering an unwilling mind, Idiot," Izel said with puckered lips. "A Machixquich should know better."

' _He does. Yet he hopes it is a rule, not nature. Forgive me. Their fear has built strong walls. Were I to pry, I risk destroying their minds._ '

"Now that concerns you?"

Zaddir met the man's hard stare, her Yolloyo vivid behind her pit eyes.

"What is done is done," Izel cut in. She sighed, sat cross-legged near Leonardo's and Coyolxauhqui's heads, and then stroked both their temples. "They are on their own?"

' _Yes,_ ' answered Zaddir. ' _Whatever paradise or hell they have created will be theirs to face. And to return, they must connect their psyche without me._ '

"Which means what, exactly?"

The Languu shared Izel's frown; Huitzi sensed it. ' _They must open up, surrender themselves. Otherwise, they will wander forever._ '

* * *

How long had Leonardo been staring into space? Just long enough to realize the clouds ran below the Milky Way stars like a foggy sea? Or not long enough that he overlooked the massive tree silhouette that stood out in black against the super-sized moon?

It resembled Huelihca yet grew yards away from the cliff side as if it were weightless in the humid air. On its furthest root sat a small figure. Leo recognized the outline of wild hair instantly and followed the steep path that led to Coyolxauhqui's side.

"Coyo?" he asked. His voice echoed, but against what? Only an empty yellow-purple galaxy surrounded the cliff and tree. "Coyo, are you okay?"

"Coyo sorry," Coyo whispered. "She lost control."

"You aren't the only one. Can I sit?" The tribeswoman remained motionless yet something inside Leo convinced him it was what she wanted. He seated himself beside her, somehow comfortable despite the lack of an ocean below his feet. Or any ground, really; the bottom faded into the fog-clouds. "What is this place?"

"Huelihca."

"No, I mean where are we? What happened after…after…" Leo could recall nothing more than flashes and paralyzing sensations. "Where's Zaddir?"

"I do not know. Our minds pushed her away."

"So we're, what? Trapped in limbo?"

Slowly, Coyo shook her head. "When—when the memories overwhelmed me and Zaddir could not help, I thought of the one place where I felt safest."

"Okay. Then, why am I here?"

"What were your thoughts at the time?"

Leo's eye ridges drew close. That, too, he couldn't recall.

"Maybe I brought you here," Coyo continued. "I"—her fingers gripped her forearms—"I did not want to be alone."

"Yeah," Leo almost laughed, "me either."

The mutant trailed off into a lull that was neither silent nor still. He felt a subtle breeze that left Huelihca's leaves untouched and heard chirps and howls from unseen rainforest animals. He swallowed thickly, focused on the full moon until Coyo grabbed his arm.

"Are you Leo?" she asked. "The real Leo?"

"Last I checked."

"You are speaking Nahuatl."

"I am? Because I hear you speaking English. Just a lot better than before."

"Like with Zaddir."

"Yes."

"Odd."

"You said it." Another lull reigned, broken by Leonardo's sigh. "So, how do we get out? Of this place, I mean. We can't stay. We—we were helping Zaddir. She needs us to complete the cycle, right? I—I—I'd say we're pretty bonded."

"Mozallo means more than being in one another's head. It is about hearts, spirits."

"I don't know what that means." Coyo let out a long breath before straightening, and Leo found her subdued expression unsettling.

"Zaddir once warned that if fear consumed me, my head would prevent my heart from accepting her," she said, solemn. "We— _Coyo_ failed. She disappointed Zaddir. Like she does everyone else."

"Doubt Izel would agree." Leo nudged the tribeswoman with his elbow, although her frown remained.

"Coyo jealous of Leo. She cannot save who matters most. She cannot cure Omipalan or madness. She must watch her family slip away."

"Coyo—" Leo stopped himself. What could he say? It wasn't so bad? That'd be a lie.

"Leo?" Coyo's whisper echoed through the humid air. "You saw everything?"

"Y—yeah. Izel. Huitzi. Your"—Leo cringed—"parents."

"I killed my father."

"You defended yourself. What other options were there?"

"Knock him out? Put him in a safe place? Let Zaddir help."

"He didn't want help."

Coyo glanced aside, eyes downcast at the rolling fog. "Because I could not convince him. Both he and Mantli died so disappointed in me. Teachcauh will be no different."

"Your older brother—"

"Is disappointed. You sense it through Coyo, do you not? Huitzi wishes she were like Mantli. But I am not. I am—"

"Not Tacapantzin, either. You're Coyo. Who says that's a bad thing?"

"Whole tribe. Mostly, Elders."

"Well, they're wrong." Coyo's head jerked towards the mutant so fast she almost hit the hand he placed on her shoulder. When her brows lifted, her eyes met his, their golden irises glossy with tears. "Usually, I'm my own worst enemy," he added. "I tend to bring myself down because I have high standards for myself. And my brothers, at times. That's my cross to bear, the reason I'm in the Amazon. It's been hard these last few months, and to think you took me on when you had this burden already. Coyo"—Leo's hand lifted to the side of the tribeswoman's neck—"you have lost so much yet still smile from the heart. That takes a strength _I'm_ jealous of. Unlike me, you haven't let loss shatter you."

"But it did," Coyo whispered. "If Leo really saw everything, he would know Zaddir helped."

"A wise leader knows when to seek help. Just as you did with the Pesto Chieftain."

"The alliance failed."

"So try again. When you set your mind to something, you don't give up. You didn't with me, and I gave you reason after reason to let me rot."

"Leo was hurting."

"As you have been. And your people. Listen"—Leo's hand lifted higher, his thumb running along Coyo's unsteady jawline—"you're strong. Everyone has a model they aspire to, but you haven't let anyone change you. That isn't selfishness. You haven't abandoned them. And they need you."

"No. They need someone worthy, someone—"

"You don't have to be worthy to help others, just willing...Huh." Leo formed a lopsided smiled, remembering Paige's words. "I was told that once. Think I'm starting to believe it. You should, too."

"I am scared, Leonardo," Coyo spoke in a small voice that thickened the air. "What if they are right? What if I lead the K'ekchi to extinction?"

"You'll never know without trying. And they _need_ you to try because as things are…you'll wind up extinct." He made a fair point; Coyolxauhqui knew it. The tears in her eyes fell as she wrapped her arms around the mutant. He stiffened, his throat swelled tight, yet he wrapped an arm around her waist, careful not to place his hand down too low.

"Coyo sorry," she whispered against his plastron. "Leo has been through terrible things as well. Those Black Lotus monsters."

"We've talked about my problems before," Leo grumbled. "And I get the feeling you'll want to talk about them in full detail. Later. Right now, we need a way to leave."

"I do not know how."

"Zaddir told us. Not with words. It's weird. I—I _feel_ it. One of us is holding back." Leo looked down at where Coyo hid behind dark, curly hair. "My trauma is recent. I've been muddling through it all year. Yours is older. Not much older, but it was shocking living through it again, wasn't it?" The tribeswoman trembled, urging the mutant closer. "I don't blame you for being affected. I'm not disappointed. Okay?"

Coyo made eye contact long enough for Leo to notice their inflamed veins in the moonlight.

"We have to go back," the mutant added.

"To reality."

"Yes."

"Can we wait a while longer?" the tribeswoman croaked.

"Coyo—"

"Please. I want to play a—a—a song with you. Here." Leo watched Coyo pull out her turtle-shaped Ocarina then smiled when her cheeks darkened. "Wi—will Leo sing?"

"Sakura, Sakura?"

"Please?"

"Sure."

Leo released Coyo but remained at her side on Huelihca's root. The first notes of the Ocarina echoed across the starry dreamscape, calling up Allum from the fog's depths. All tension eased from the mutant as he watched their energy leave trails against the yellow-purple galaxy, and that ease translated through his voice as he began to sing.

* * *

"Coyo!" Izel touched her best friend first when the Chieftain roused. The curly-haired woman scrunched her face, waving aside Izel. "Are you okay? Did it work? Are you bonded? What was it like?"

"That is too many questions right now, Izel," Leo interjected.

The skinhead spun to face the Ayotl and puffed up, but then a thought struck her. "You are speaking Nahuatl," she said. "Wha—how?"

"Well, I thought I could do it because of that place or..." Leo sat up with a grunt. "How long were we out?"

"The sun will soon rise," added Huitzilopochtli.

"Rise? We slept through the night?"

"You are fortunate you woke at all, Cuamahui."

"Have"—Coyo's voice was soft, almost lost under her brother's sigh—"have you waited all this time?"

"How could I not?" the man replied. His crossed arms made him seem to disprove, yet the tenderness in his gaze betrayed him. Not that his emaciated figure did him any justice. "How do you feel?"

The Chieftain soured. "Like I drank a barrel of Chicha."

"Do not"—Leo gagged—"do not mention that stuff right now."

' _You have done it._ ' Everyone turned towards the Languu who stood at a distance. Her lights had dimmed since twilight faded into dawn and her body barely stood out against Intzalan's entrance.

"You can come closer," Izel told her. "Surely Huitzi's rage has quelled. Right?" The man glared in return. "Oh, stop. This is amazing. Leo and Coyo are the first hu—well, earthlings to share Mozallo."

' _The cycle is complete,_ ' Zaddir confirmed. Her multi-voice wavered, much like the white beads that slid through her veins. ' _I sense you both as one. Do you?_ '

The Ayotl and Chieftain shared a look; it spoke volumes of understanding, and they glanced away at the same time.

"Yes," said Leo.

"Can you read each other's minds?" Izel asked.

Coyo spared her best friend a weak smile, although Leo was the one who answered, "No. It is more like sensations, electricity in the brain. Zaddir, is—is this what Nia feels? That empathy she has, is it Mozallo?"

Zaddir brought her chin down slowly. ' _Could be._ '

"Nia?" Huitzi questioned. "Your brother's woman? Why would she—?"

Leo lifted a hand then brought it to his temple, rubbing it. "Oh, well, turns out that woman is Tacapantzin's daughter. Hers and Ekenni's."

"Their child?"

Izel faced Coyo to confirm, and when the Chieftain grinned sheepishly, the skinhead shook her shoulders. "How could you not tell me? Is she with your aunt? Do you know what happened to her and—?"

"Sorry, Izel; I asked Coyo not to spread the news," Leo said. "Nia is with my family. April brought her to us. Small world, huh?"

"You mean they created a Tlatlaco?" Huitzi spoke with cold anger that left him stiff. "You knew of this, Zaddir?"

' _Yes_ ,' answered Zaddir.

"And you have not—"

' _She is my Quizzinteyo,_ _Huitzilopochtli. My family._ ' The man stopped—mid-step, open-mouthed, and staff lowered. Zaddir approached him with haste, lights lingering behind her. ' _I have seen her through Leonardo's eyes. She is unlike any_ _Tlatlaco in Languu history. She is strong, balanced._ '

"And with my clan to support her, she will stay that way," Leonardo cut in.

' _Please,_ ' Zaddir continued, ' _keep this secret._ '

"She is dangerous," countered Huitzi.

' _Anyone can be dangerous, and Nia has overcome adolescence._ '

"Has she?"

' _She is the first hybrid to subdue her Yolloyo. While I do not condone interspecies procreation, her accomplishment speaks for the future. I see hope for her. So, please. Please._ '

Every muscle in the man's face pulled downward, yet when Zaddir grazed his shoulder with invisible fingers, he lowered his head with a growl. "I swear, this group will be what kills me."

' _Thank you,_ ' Zaddir whispered.

"Welcome. We should return. I will need one hell of an excuse as to where we have been."

"We will leave that to you," Izel added with a smirk. "And you two"—the skinhead pulled up Coyo alongside Huitzi and Leo—"tell me everything, starting with Nia."


	27. Way

**A/N:** We're entering the last leg of Leo's tale. Strap in, folks!

 _Sciencegal_ \- Who needs Rosetta Stone? We got Mozallo! :D

 _Duckie_ \- Such beautiful insight. Thank you.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 27:** **WAY**

Mid Wet Season covered the sky in gray clouds so thick the sun disappeared. Subtle thunder boomed, but Leonardo had become skilled in detecting when the rain would fall. He kept his papers protected under his hooded poncho and entered the Library where Huitzilopochtli prepared for another shipment to the United States.

"Good; I am on time," he said in Nahuatl.

Huitzi, now accustomed to the mutant's new language, accepted the papers Leo offered without glancing up from the inventory he marked. "No one says you must be in the forest to write your tribe letters," he said.

"Nature makes me more…comfortable. No offense."

"What offense is there to take? You accepted Mozallo. Now you must acclimate to it. That will require time. Much time."

Leo cringed. "You would think after a month things would be easier."

Truth be told, the mutant struggled to navigate his connection with Coyolxauhqui. Although their cycle was complete, their jumbled emotions worsened, and Zaddir's coaching helped about as much as Mikey did in Don's lab. The Languu was hiding something—both Leo and Coyo felt it—yet she kept quiet, avoiding the matter. Which sucked; Leo would like to know why being alone with the Chieftain left him confused and why her touches made him believe he never had to leave the K'ekchi.

"How many letters this time, Cuamahui?"

Leonardo looked down on the tribesman as he bound the papers to a small crate with twine. "Five," he answered.

"Your count is rising."

"A bit."

"Does this mean you are preparing to reconnect with them?"

The question felt like a slap in the face, and Leo choked on his answer. He gaped, stricken by both an odd pulse in his brain as well as the tribesman's bony backside. Shadows across it revealed his protruding spine, shoulder blades, and ribs with an intensity that nauseated the mutant yet he couldn't look away.

"You are not mistaken; my condition has worsened since you arrived," said Huitzi. He moved to another crate, joints popping, and began folding ponchos to pack inside it.

"Omipalan, Rotten Bone Sickness. I"—Leo licked his chapped lips—"I understand it, even though you never told me about it."

"Mozallo."

"It's a genetically engineered parasite meant for the Languu, right? To kill their IgRs."

"Yaoqui had hoped to cause an alien pandemic. They failed."

"It was meant to taint the water supply that runs through Ihiyoyahualli."

"Back then, they were unaware the Languu do not drink."

"But your mother drank. And a few others. From that stream for—for healing purposes. You noticed the dying plants too late."

"We cleared the vegetation, the land, and irrigated a new waterway, but the sickness had crept in, poisoned our source that once renewed us. It is a slow killer. Takes many seasons. I have had it for over half my life, and Chieftain Coatlicue survived longer than any other with it."

"She died three seasons before I arrived. Coyo was so scared."

"By then, I had long-since been tainted as well."

"In battle. When your mother…"

Sighing, Huitzi laid a hand on the last poncho he had folded. "We discovered then the sickness is spread through blood. We should exile those with Omipalan. But our numbers are too small. Instead, we are forbidden from marriage and transferred to the Machixquich."

"I think you make an excellent teacher," said Leo with a smile. "The kids love you."

"It is a difficult position," Huitzi spoke in a low tone. "The classes grow scarcer, and our young ones must accept at an early age that they should be prepared to die for Eztaca. As Coyo learned. She—" The tribesman gripped the poncho, thin arms bulging with veins. "I wanted nothing more than to give my sister a proper childhood. I wanted her to smile, to play, be happy. But because I was poisoned, she became the successor."

"You had no idea the parasite would—"

"Whether we knew or not, means nothing. Leadership was thrust on Coyo, and she has spent countless seasons denying it. I hoped Tonalquizca Atl's decent would make her realize she must fight to survive. Even if it is her own family, she must. To fulfill the promise she has marked on her body."

"Could you have killed your father so easily?"

"Atl was no longer my father; he had lost his mind. For a long time, he had been prone to outbursts, isolation, and invisible foes."

"A lot like me when I first came here, huh?"

Huitzi closed his mouth, arm falling to his side. "Coyo had faith in you. And I in her. Even if I did not agree with where her attention was focused."

"On an outsider."

"Forgive me, Cuamahui. She has a role."

"Which others try to control. Has it not settled in yet? She does not want to rule according to 'traditional' standards."

"If things went her way—"

Leonardo stepped ahead, stomped his foot. "They could be better. You will never know unless you try. Tell me honestly: did you think Coyo could help me heal?"

The tribesman kept quiet, and his shoulders slumped as he sighed.

"Neither did I," Leo continued. "But she did. You consider her empathy a liability when it is her greatest strength. She holds onto kindness when she has every reason to let it go. That sort of person could uplift your people if you gave her a chance."

"Leonardo." A shiver worked through the mutant as Huitzi faced him. He wore a wry smile that bunched the taut skin over his sunken features and revealed his rotten teeth. "You have such a high opinion of my sister, of her true spirit, not—not what she pretends to show the Elders."

"Of course," whispered Leo. "She saved me, made me feel at home. How can I not lo— _like_ her for that?"

"Like," Huitzi echoed. His smile strengthened, knotting Leo's stomach. "She is fond of you as well. She finds strength with you that no other has given her, and I am relieved she has found it. However…"

"However?"

"It breaks my heart. When I pass, and you return to New York, what will happen to that strength?"

Leo held his breath. Part of him longed to tell Huitzilopochtli the support ran bother ways. Then again, what good would it do to confess that the best thing to happen to the mutant lately had come in the form of a curly-haired native? And that her care was the only reason he wanted to live again? He owed her more than he could repay, and on some level, he realized Coyo understood his time with the K'ekchi was growing to a close.

* * *

"The Pesto Tribe forsook us, Honored Chief. Why do you insist?"

Coyolxauhqui glanced at Tlaloc before returning to the letter she fastened around Yolotli's talon. "We need help," she said.

"Yo has dropped many letters throughout their territory. You should stop fishing for a reply before they fly an arrow through his breast."

"They would not harm Yo."

"How do you know?"

"Old stories of the time we shared gods with the Pesto Tribe. Cochotl is a divine messenger, protected." The young women smiled as the animal nuzzled her with his rough beak, giggling when he picked a bug from her hair. "Yo will be safe, so we will keep trying."

"You never thought to do so before. What changed?" Tlaloc folded his arms across his toned chest. He wanted an answer, not an excuse, but not much could be said without revealing her Mozallo with Leonardo.

"I cannot live up to my ancestors," she said, gentle. "Nor do I wish to. They are not who I am, Tlaloc. I am realizing my way, and…"

"Your way?"

"I do not want to be remembered for desertion, isolation, madness, or coldness. I want future generations to think of me and see compassion, integrity, community—humanity in the face of war. Even if the Elders hate me, I will no longer be lying to myself. I will be leading how I want. Knowing this, would you follow me?"

Tlaloc's red face paled. It looked pasty compared to his Texohuitztli, and at some point, he had stepped close enough to place a palm against the woman's cheek. Any other Chieftain would have told him he had overstepped a boundary. Coyo would not; his touch lacked the spark that Leonardo held, and she was painfully aware of how much he cared.

"Where was this belief?" the man asked in a low voice. "Did it come with him? Will it leave with him, too?" Coyo's jaw tensed as Tlaloc's expression softened. "I pray not. It suits you. And I would gladly follow. Wherever you may need me."

"Coyo! How long does it take to send a cochotl?" Izel emerged from the village gates with a huff and jug in tow. She paused when she noticed Tlaloc held her best friend, but Coyolxauhqui sent her a smile as she pushed down the man's hand.

"He was just about to take flight, right, Yo?"

Yo squawked, vibrant wings flapping.

"Good boy. Return safely." The Chieftain outstretched her arm then pushed Yo's weight upward. Air from his flight tousled Coyo's hair, and she pushed the ringlets back as she watched the cochotl disappear over the rainforest canopy.

"Hopefully, this time he returns with news," Izel said, snorting. "Meanwhile, we have dinner. And I am not making it alone."

"Understood," Coyo replied. "Tlaloc, would you join us for supper?"

"Yes," Tlaloc answered. "I will fetch my father."

"And we will fetch water," Izel interjected. She held up the jug, pulling Coyo towards the forest by her hips. "Warm the fire!"

"Oh"—Coyo spoke over her shoulder—"and if Leo is there, please have him chop vegetables!"

Tlaloc mumbled something in reply, although Coyo could not hear it over the young women's shuffles. "Your fingers hurt, Izel," she told the skinhead.

Izel's grip lightened yet she kept close as if in fear of being overheard. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Uh, walking?"

"No."

"Talking?"

"No! With Tlaloc. Why was he touching you?"

"Oh, that was meaningless."

"No, no, not nothing." Izel skipped ahead to halt Coyo along the pathway and jabbed a finger into the Chieftain's chest. "You know how he feels about you."

"And he knows I cannot return those feelings."

"Does he understand why?"

"What do you mean?" Coyo rounded her friend—partly to arrive at the river faster and partly because the skinhead's stare made her admit to anything.

"Mozallo has only made the truth more clear," Izel said behind her.

"What truth?"

"Huehuei Ometeotl. I see it. The whole village sees it. How can we not? You stand stronger together."

Coyo stopped. Although she dared not face Izel, she could not move forward either.

"Leonardo has accepted you as I always have," Izel continued. "You bring him joy; it shows in his eyes. And it hurts to consider the future."

"He does not have to go," Coyo replied. "He can stay. For however long he wishes."

"He has family in New York. Would you be cruel enough to keep him from them?"

No. Maybe the Hamatos could move, though. Or Coyo and Leo could write letters through April O'Neil. She would not have to say goodbye forever, would she? Anxiety swelled in the young woman's chest, hot and sickening, and she glanced down at her dirty feet.

"The draw was there before Mozallo," Izel continued. "I have watched you two pull at one another like the moon and tide. You have a harmony, but…his place is with his family."

"I realize that!" Coyo spun with her fists clenched. "Every day, a longing inside me grows to see people I have never met. There are shame and hope mixed with worry, and it is _not_ mine. He wants to see them, yet when with me, his messages ar—are jumbled. The longing fades. He wants to do the little things we did before: hold my hand, stroke my cheek. But he refuses. And it is confusing because I want him to do those things as well. So is it my desire? Or his?"

"Uh"—Izel scratched her hairline—"I would guess both."

"That cannot be."

"Why not?"

"Because if he felt the same, he would _never_ consider leaving!" Coyolxauhqui shook as her anxiety pushed tears from her eyes. She could hardly see Izel when the skinhead approached. "Why must I sacrifice so much good in my life? Why can I not have this one thing?"

Izel dropped her jug, and it thumped in the mud as her arms enveloped Coyo's shoulders. "I am sorry, Teueltiuh," she whispered.

"Mozallo was easier with Zaddir. Her emotions are straightforward."

"And just think: she has the burden of shifting through yours and Leo's unsaid love."

"It is not—"

"Whatever it may be, it is special. Cherish it while you can."

Coyolxauhqui gripped her friend in return. She had no voice to answer and no will to admit that one day, she would be standing alone. She had only sobs, which she released with fury.

* * *

Obadiah ran a knife blade along the edges of his overgrown beard—not so much to trim is as to remind his fellow agents who held power inside their debriefing room. The area resembled a metallic pill capsule with LED lights dotting its seams, and outsiders could mistake its occupants for a quartet of dumbasses in a useless elevator. Still, the obvious lack of EPF technology meant nothing; Obadiah knew pin-point cameras set all around him allowed for holographic recordings.

"Is this necessary?" asked Hyde. He fidgeted between agents Vance and Noel yet kept composed.

"You're my recon team," Obadiah answered. "And Jefe favors updates."

"You decide to indulge him _now_ , Señor?"

Obadiah's knife slid below his jawline, making scratchy noises that the air-tight room made prominent. "He insisted, Mano. So state your names."

Hyde groaned although Vance stepped forward, saying, "Agent Beverly Anne Vance. Ecuador Sector. ID number T-76415. Active duty as of today, December fourteenth, two thousand twelve. Current assignment Barrier Control. Last contact with Agent Bishop had been over six months ago. Ready to report."

"Damn," Noel said, "you keep all the on a memory chip, Bionic Woman?"

"Some of us are actually competent, Quincy."

"Ouch."

"Noel"—Obadiah began running his knife's edge down his neck—"if you would, Pendejo."

The greasy man cracked a crooked grin, ignorant of his superior's insult. "Uh, kay. Agent Quincy Noel. Ecuador. Active duty on Barrier Patrol. ID number, uh, T-16—no, no, 156-something…something. It's on my badge. Promise. Oh, and I have no idea the last time I contacted the big boss."

Obadiah repressed a sigh. Noel was his least favorite agent, but the fool kept Hyde focused. And Hyde was the star of their current update.

"Bet you ten bucks you can't recite your ID either," Noel told Hyde with an impish look.

Hyde rolled his eyes then joined Vance. "Agent Xander Ruiz Rodriguez Santiagola la Arroyo Hyde with the Ecuador Sector. ID number T-44187. Active duty as a, uh, Barrier Investigator. New branch. Leading member. Current assign?" The man shrugged. "Barrier investigation?"

Obadiah's smile grew. "State what that entails, please. For the record."

"I…well, I—"

"Agent Xander Hyde."

Hyde sent Obadiah a dull look. "I, Agent Xander Hyde, study the Barrier for weaknesses, patterns, and signs of the indigenous tribe that shelters the Jinchos. I mean, Languu."

"Tell Bishop of your encounter on the Barrier's outskirts," Obadiah added.

The younger Hispanic steeled, fists curling as Vance and Noel watched. They must've been curious since Obadiah hadn't told anyone of the alien spotting, and Hyde challenged the command with narrowed eyes.

"Our boss needs to know the war is progressing," Obadiah insisted. "Otherwise, he may come have a look for himself for why it isn't."

Luckily, Hyde lacked his partner's dimness; while Noel quirked an eyebrow, Hyde squared his stance. "Late November, I came across two indigenous tribes attempting to broker a truce. It went south, and I ended up surrounded by one tribe. I…" The man paled to a light tan color. "I fought my way out. That is until I met one of _them_."

"Define 'them.'"

"A Jincho. An alien. A Languu."

"Dude"—Noel spun Hyde by the arm—"you saw one? Damn, did it look anything like the illustrations from orientation? Burning blue skeletons?"

"Like something from a nightmare," Hyde answered lowly.

"Was it psychic like suspected as well?"

Hyde froze as if stricken by Vance's question. "Yes. It tried to make a deal with me."

"What kind of deal?"

"Nothing I'd agree to."

"Did you kill it?"

"Damn, Bev." Noel snorted. "Jealous?"

"If he didn't capture it, what other option's left? Unless he let it go on purpose."

"Why would I do that, Beverly?"

"Maybe that was part of your deal."

"I told you, there was no deal. It was impossible, anyway."

"That your only reason for turning it down?"

Hyde sneered at the grump-faced brunette, and Obadiah chuckled, saying, "Come now. Hyde wouldn't turn on us, would you, Mano?"

Hyde shook his head.

"See? All's good. Besides, our brave man learned something exciting that day."

"Oh?" Noel sent his partner a look.

"Just before the attack," Hyde said, "I noticed the markers for the Barrier have moved, shrunk in radius."

"You mean"—Vance fought a smile—"we're gaining ground? Physical ground?"

"Sí, sí," Obadiah answered. "And we don't plan on letting up anytime soon. Hear that, Jefe?" The man picked a random camera to face with his knife rotating between his fingers. "An opportunity is coming our way. You want your agents ready to capture those nasty Jinchos? Then you'd better push your brains at The Island to conquer that Davvu Stone faster. Report over."


	28. Pack (Part 1)

**A/N:** Reviews feed my muse, so thanks, everyone! ; 3;

 _Sciencegal_ \- Oh, just wait...

 _musicluvr86_ \- Wish granted!

 _D_ \- Everything shall be revealed, my dear dear reader. Kuku.

 _DuckiePray_ \- No, not really. As necessary as it was, it still sucks for them both. *sigh*

* * *

 **CHAPTER 28:** **PACK (PART 1)**

Tlaloc's stare felt more unnerving than usual whenever he and Leonardo collaborated on tasks. It seemed like the native resented eye contact no matter how many times the mutant attempted a truce through dinner invitations or small talk.

"This is ridiculous," Leo muttered. His hand-held file slid along a spearhead in his lap, leaving sandy, metallic shavings along his thigh.

' _Hard to believe those bits come from an otherwise impenetrable metal,_ ' he thought. ' _I wonder if Melody_ _knows_ _this is what_ _she's crafted_ _from?_ '

"Our job is tedious yet important," Tlaloc said in Nahuatl. "Be thankful; Aynnite's high-temperature tolerance means one less step."

"No cooling the tips with water," Leo finished. "The weapons can only be ground by other Aynnite pieces, like with Diamonds, which leaves it stronger than if forged by heat. I listened to your father. But I wasn't talking about sharpening; that's second-nature."

"I noticed." The tribesman glanced up from between his piles of dull and sharp spears then inhaled.

"You can't feign ignorance anymore," the mutant added.

"Oh"—Tlaloc's head bobbed—"so because Ayotl speaks Nahuatl like magic mean I should be impressed?"

"I worked hard to learn your language."

"As hard as Coyo worked to understand English better?"

Leo shifted, thighs sticking to the coarse fabric of his straw mat. He cast a look towards the other Tonalquizca preoccupied with their jobs then met Tlaloc's stony gaze.

"You think me stupid?" Tlaloc continued in his native tongue.

"No," Leo answered in kind. "But if you knew…Sorry; I thought you would jump at the chance to report me."

"You, perhaps."

"Not Coyo."

The tribesman scraped his Aynnite file against a spearhead a little too harshly. The dark metal chipped and Tlaloc cursed as he studied its damage.

"You did not want to hurt her," continued Leo.

"I would not expect a Yaoqui to understand," Tlaloc replied.

"Understand what? That you care for her? That is obvious."

"My feelings forced me into a difficult position. Now I am almost as guilty as she is. Of course, you do not realize; Coyo would never tell."

"Tell what?"

The warrior grimaced at the weapon whose blade he sanded with rough hand movements. "The full impact of her treason," he whispered. "What it means. What would happen if it was exposed."

"Everything worked out. We—"

"Coyo betrayed Eztaca, Ayotl. Zaddir ignored the Teo's Golden Rule. For that, they would be"—Tlaloc swallowed, red face paling—"they would be executed."

"Execu—" Leo glanced over his shoulder then scooted closer to Tlaloc's mat, despite his glare. "That is ludicrous!"

"That is law. Set in place to prevent Yohualli."

"And I understand the caution."

"Because you know more than you should."

Leo couldn't deny that, and his expression said as much. "Look," he added, "if you want to blame anyone, blame me."

"I do," Tlaloc answered without hesitation or wavering. That alone spread anxious heat beneath the mutant's plastron. "Coyo never could help, well, helping. As a child, she would bring animals home, mostly those wounded or sick. Ayotl, pitzotl, ozomahtli, even miztli—it mattered not."

"She brought a Puma back once?" When Leo reflected, he could recall a brown-spotted cub pawing at his hand. But the hand hadn't been his. It had been child-sized with five fingers, and an unexplainable joy left him unbothered by the feline's needle-like claws.

"You remember," Tlaloc muttered. Leo glanced up, wordless, and the tribesman scoffed. "Coyo wanted to keep him. But an animal like that deserved freedom. Then not long after, she returned with Yolotli. She has this compulsion to soothe pain."

"She is empathetic."

"To a fault."

"Maybe in your eyes. Tlaloc." Voice strained, chin tucked, Leo rubbed his clammy palms together, resting his forearms on the spear across his thighs. "Before I came here, even after, I…I was ready to die. I wanted the world to stop. And for a time, it did. Then?" The mutant's hands wrung. "Then Coyo showed up. She made everything spin again, and though I hated her for it at first, I…I am relieved now. Thanks to her compassion."

Tlaloc's knuckles lost color when he gripped his spear shaft, the Aynnite file screeching along its uneven head. "And yet you let her risk her life. For your sake."

"Call me selfish, ignorant. I do not care. Without Coyo and Zaddir, I never would have started to move forward. I owe them more than I can repay, and I did take from them. Still, I am here, trying to give back."

"Before you reunite with your family."

All heat left Leo's body. He fumbled with his words as he often did when faced with the topic of his return, and Tlaloc's stare softened.

"It would have been kinder to keep your distance," the tribesman said. "Coyo is terrible at letting go. When you depart…"

"I have no idea when that will be," Leo said. He could hardly keep eye contact when reminded of the Chieftain's smile, so his attention fell on his Owl Eiehuia. "For now, my focus is set on helping Coyo lead."

"You?"

"Everyone emphasis on what she should be, not who she is."

"'Who she is' plays a part in why the Tonalquizca struggle."

"Being a leader means more than tough calls and fighting. It also includes playing smart. With a group this size, that is the best course of action. She is right not to engage as often as you and your father persist."

"It is not tact that guides her, Ayotl. It is fear. Avoiding the Yaoqui circling Xelihuiyan will end in tragedy. Mark my words."

"Tlaloc! Leo!" Coyolxauhqui's voice cut through the tension. She stood beside the males with her arms akimbo, petite mouth set in a frown. "The Teo have arrived. We must move before the Tepiani fail. Come."

Leonardo noticed blue-white bodies moving amidst the Tonalquizca. They glowed in the dusk and scrutinized him with pit eyes. Did they sense his Mozallo with Coyo and Zaddir? Felt like it yet not one of them spoke. Whatever they knew, they kept it secret and floated after the warriors as they followed their Chieftain into the rainforest.

* * *

The chill inside Coyolxauhqui stemmed from more than the rainfall. On opposing flanks, Leonardo and Tlaloc kept quiet in the crowd. Was that because of the Tonalquizca's mission? Or because of the males' earlier talk?

"Leo?" Coyo called. The turtle-man wiped water off his face, nodding acknowledgment. "Walk with Coyo," she added.

Leo looked to choke on his reply. Why?

"If I may," Nopaltzin interjected. The old man spoke in Nahuatl, rugged features set in displeasure when he approached his Chieftain. "There is no time for whimsy. We can barely see, the earth is sliding down the mountain, and you have lost our path."

"Oh." Coyo's head shook, her wild hair spraying rain outwards. Between the group ran an ankle-high waterway muddled by dirt and scat. Guess she had taken a wrong turn when it forked a while back. "Should we rest?" she asked. "Fi—find the path when the storm lifts? Or maybe another one?"

"Ometeotl's love." Nopaltzin's scarred chest puffed. He stepped closer to Coyo and lowered his voice, so it barely carried over the rain's pitter-patter. "A leader should not ask questions. They should have answers."

"For some things I do. This is—"

"Survival. And eventually, you must make choices."

"I know. I—I—" Coyo blinked weighted droplets from her eyelashes. "I do not want to make the wrong choices."

"Right or wrong, they need made. Indecisiveness could kill us."

He had a point. Still, Coyo's chest tightened when she considered how far from K'ekchi Village the Tonalquizca had come. She released a staggered breath as Nopaltzin returned to his position then shouted to ensure everyone heard her, "We will seek shelter then continue to the Tepiani once the rain lifts!"

Everyone complied, save for Leonardo. Coyo sent him a smile and beckoned him closer. He sloshed through the waterway, attention drifting to those who flocked around their Chieftain.

"So, why'd you want me up here?" he asked in English.

Coyo side-glanced. "Up?"

"Beside you. Th—this isn't my team."

"Quema." The 'yes' was more of a 'but'; Leo knew.

"You were Chieftain long before I arrived," he said.

"Mantli teach Coyo much."

"But?"

The young woman glanced over her shoulder to ensure no one, especially Tlaloc, was listening. "Coyo hate front. All eyes behind, watching."

"They make you nervous."

Coyo nodded.

"I remember that feeling," the turtle-man added. "Especially after my father dubbed me Jonin. My brothers may not have noticed, but, man, I feared I was doing everything wrong. I second-guessed myself. A lot. In my head, though. Not like you, not out loud."

"It weakness."

"No. Well, not in that way. How do I put it?" Harsh rainfall beat against the ferns that the Tonalquizca parted, and when thunder boomed above, Leo jolted. "It's, uh, it's a good thing to question and consider all possibilities. It can drive you crazy—literally—but a leader should be prepared. And if not prepared, adaptable."

"Ah-dap-tah…?"

"Basically: be able to handle any problem, no matter what."

"Leading hard."

"Tell me about it." The turtle-man spared a grin that seemed more reflective than heart-warming. He sighed, turning his gaze frontward as he parted a cluster of vines for his friend. "Want to know what made me less nervous?" he asked.

"Tlazocamati," Coyo answered, passing him.

"I trusted my brothers. A leader is just another role in a pack, and I had family at every vulnerable side to remind me of that."

"Family made Leo not nervous?" Coyo forced a chuckle that almost made her cough and strengthened Leo's grin.

"Your people trust you, Coyo," he said. "You should, too."

' _I trust I will live up to my family's legacy,_ ' Coyo thought. She wanted to stop trying. But that would make her hypocritical, wouldn't it? ' _Helping others is easier. When it comes to me I—ah!_ '

A sharp pain cut through Coyolxauhqui's brain. She flinched as her muscles twitched, pressing her wet temples as she made eye contact with Nopaltzin. He heard it, too—a fearsome sound reminiscent of a Death Whistle.

"The Tepiani," Nopaltzin said in Nahuatl.

"Someone is moving them," Tlaloc added.

Which ones, though? And how? Coyo clenched her jaw and found Leo. He stared back, ignorant of the border's cry, then surveyed the Teonehnemi scattered throughout the group.

"Tonna"—a particularly short Teo lifted her chin towards the Chieftain—"can you sense which Tepiani is being tampered with?"

' _Yes,_ ' she answered. ' _Near the quarry by the mountain base._ '

' _As well as the one at the river bend,_ ' another alien interjected.

' _And the one in the northern plains,_ ' added a third.

Multiple sites and few warriors meant heightened vulnerability. Coyo hated the odds yet admitted if the Yaoqui succeeded in destroying even one anchor, it would devastate Xelihuiyan.

"Honored Chief?" Nopaltzin asked.

Coyo sighed. "We must split up," she said, shaky. "Nopaltzin, take Tonna and Chimalli with Ohtli and Sacnite. Head for the river. Ollin, Nelli will guide you, Papan, and Amoxtli towards the plains. Leo, Tlaloc, and I will be with Arrul at the quarry."

"And us?" a young man added. His voice cracked, and he lowered his raised hand, exchanging looks with the Tonalquizca's other adolescences.

"They are members," Nopaltzin said.

That did not make Coyo eager to toss them into battle, but what choice was left? "Eztli, go with Nopaltzin. Huemac and Coaxoch can come with me. Coalt, stay with Ollin."

"Chief"—Coalt stepped forward—"Huemac and I know the quarry better than anyone. If an ambush is required, we would know how."

"I agree," added Coaxoch. She sent the best friends a glance then regarded her leader. "They are always avoiding responsibilities there."

"Not always," said Coalt.

"Keep quiet, Chicha thief," Huemac added.

Thief? Coyo eyed Coaxoch, more so in confusion than anger or disappointment. Why would she steal Chicha? It tasted like a dusty rope.

"That matter can be addressed later," Nopaltzin interjected, head shaking.

"Right," Coyo agreed. "Find your groups. Use caution. The Tepiani are too far apart to help one another if…"

"Perhaps my father should take the plains," Tlaloc said. "They are closer, and he is—"

"Old? Weakened? Slow?" Nopaltzin snorted then laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "Fear not; I can do as our Chieftain asks."

"Ollin knows the river well enough."

"Knowledge is not the reason you ask for my transfer." Nopaltzin smiled—a short, poignant act. When he faced Coyo, it fell alongside his arm and Tlaloc's expression. "This is your choice, right, Honored Chief?"

"Uh." Coyo glanced at the two. "Well, I…"

The white-haired man tossed his Aynnite spear from his one hand to his other, motioning for his group to follow. "The sooner we reinforce Xelihuiyan, the better. We will guard the river, no matter what awaits us. I give my word."

"So do we," Ollin added.

The older warriors nodded, although their respect did little to lift their leader's spirits. She watched the Tonalquizca divide: six to the south, five to the north, and five to the east. And she struggled against a foreboding sense that sat like a lump in her throat.


	29. Pack (Part 2)

**A/N:** Almost near the climax...

 _Sciencegal_ \- Coyo won't throw away what she is to "fit" a role.

 _DuckiePray_ \- You know the recipe for an end, Duckie. Worse before better. UoU

* * *

 **CHAPTER 28:** **PACK (PART 2)**

The Tepianis' cries came in high-pitch noises. It gave rise to waves across Xelihuiyan—yellow-white pulses of disturbed energy that washed over its top—as well as an urgency that quickened Arrul's pulse. Coyolxauhqui watched the lights through the Teo's veins thicken into unbroken streams, the prickling in her limbs urging her to find a better vantage.

"How do they know where it is?" asked Huemec. He braced himself when the ground shook then cursed as several rocks loosened from the mountainside behind him.

"There are too many options for the Yaoqui to guess correctly," Coalt added.

Coyo joined him along the cliff to study the quarry lake that wavered from rain and debris. Its isolation had been a key factor in placing the Tepiani. Another factor was the numerous caves that dotted its staggered walls like termite homes. Only a sliver of land existed outside Xelihuiyan: a passageway that had collapsed into a ledge five seasons ago. A pale-haired Yaoqui knelt in its rubble, something like a long tube on their shoulders.

"Is that a Bazooka?" Leonardo questioned.

Coyo sent him a look. "What is—"

Thunderous sounds rattled the quarry. The tube projected smoke trails, which hit Xelihuiyan in a display of pops and lights. A second assault followed, which bypassed the barrier before it could repair. Coyo flinched as the energy field pulsated yellow, her throat tight when she regarded her group.

"Arrul," she said, "mend the Tepiani."

"B—but Xelihuiyan, it...it—" Huemec's wide gaze fell on his Chief.

"Broke," she finished. "Which is why you will accompany Arrul. Help him move the Tepiani to a new cave then lend him energy to fix it."

"But you need to get across unseen."

"Coalt will help. Right?" All eyes fell on the youngest Tonalquizca. He gawked at the scene, jolting when the Bazooka fired again. "Coalt!"

"Yes, yes," Coalt said. "I—I will. Yes." He was terrified. Coyo sympathized and wanted nothing more than to permit him to leave.

"You need only lead us," she told him. "Nothing more."

After a shared nod, Coalt and Huemec led the group to a pit hidden inside an ancient, dead tree. The group jumped down one by one into a cramped chamber that stunk of musty root tips that brushed Coyolxauhqui's hair. She dared not question the semi-thick mud encasing her feet, only which way they should head after Arrul and Huemec parted ways.

"How will we see anything without Arrul?" Leo asked through the darkness. Dull thumps knocked soil from the ceiling, and Coyo swatted dust from her face as something sparked ahead.

Coalt held up a torch, his mouth twisted in a half-smile. "As I said, we come here a lot. Follow me."

How anyone could navigate the rocky labyrinth was beyond Coyo; every path looked the same, torch or not. She felt as if she were suffocating, and the moment daylight broke she quickened her pace.

"Wait!" Coalt grabbed Coyo before she could reach the fresh air.

"What?" she hissed. When the adolescent flinched, she eased her voice. "What is it, Coalt?"

"This path leads outside Xelihuiyan," he whispered.

"You mean towards the Yaoqui?"

Coalt nodded.

"If we rush them, we can disarm them," Leonardo said.

"If they are alone," Tlaloc added.

The turtle-man faced the warrior, speaking in English, "They've been firing at the barrier non-stop. You wanna see how much more damage they could cause? What about Arrul and Huemec?"

"Wh—what is he saying?" Coalt asked Coyo.

The young woman shook her head. "You did good, Coalt. Find Arrul and Huemec."

"But—"

"Go."

"What if—"

"Go!"

Coalt stepped back yet obliged, following where his leader pointed.

When his footfalls faded, Tlaloc stepped ahead. "This is a trap," he said.

"Probably," Leo countered. He reached behind him—almost as if to scratch his neck with both hands—then paused. His hard expression faltered, and a hollow feeling through their Mozallo convinced Coyo that he had left behind something important. He pushed the thought aside, though, saying, "If we surprise the soldiers enough to knock the Bazookas into the lake, the others will have a chance."

Tlaloc snorted. "Last I recall, you were not K'ekchi Chief."

"I agree with Leo," added Coyo.

Tlaloc, meanwhile, did not; his furrowed brows almost hide his eyes. But he readied his Aynnite spear then charged from the cave's mouth alongside his comrades. They met the Yaoqui with fury in the rainfall. One villain dropped his Bazooka to defend against Leo. The other used their weapon as a counter-attack when Tlaloc's spear arched over her head. The Tonalquizca grunted at the impact to his stomach, and Coyo snarled, driving the butt of her spear into the Yaoqui's shoulder.

"Fucking savage," the Yaoqui hissed.

Her hand caught the spear shaft then jerked it, so Coyo stumbled. The woman collided with Tlaloc but found footing beside him before a body fell into a water puddle like a heavy sack between the K'ekchi and their enemy.

"You should tell Bishop his recruits are growing soft," Leonardo said.

The Yaoqui curled her lips, focus set on the turtle-man. "Well, I'll be damned," she said, "you monsters _do_ exist."

"In the flesh. And if you don't want a face like your partner's, I suggest you surrender."

"Bart?" The Yaoqui choked on her snort. "That guy's nothing without a weapon, as you can see. Me? I'm another story."

The Yaoqui spun with her Bazooka. Coyo jumped back with Tlaloc to avoid its power, which whistled as the enemy hurled it towards Leo. Coyo sunk against the moist ground then swept a leg below the Yaoqui. It missed. By time Coyo stood again, the Yaoqui had used her Bazooka as a pillar to side-summersault out of Leonardo's wrath and backhanded Tlaloc so hard, blood sprayed from his nose.

"Your counter technique is—"

The Yaoqui narrowed her beady eyes at Leo. "My parents taught me well, Mutant."

"Parents?"

"Enough talk," Tlaloc seethed through clenched teeth, rain, and blood. "Words wasted on Tlacatetza."

"Now there's a memorable word." The Yaoqui smiled, although she looked anything but happy. "Have we met? You seem familiar."

Tlaloc spat a red glop at his enemies' shoes. "I have no answers for you."

"No, really. You remind me of—" The Yaoqui's smile dropped. Relaxed, Coyo noticed the woman's face resembled a cochotl and her beak-like nose scrunched with a sneer. "The man with the scar across his chest."

Nopaltzin? Why would the Yaoqui know about him?

"You don't remember me, Savage?"

Tlaloc wiped his nose clean and remained silent.

"Twenty years ago. The landslide? The gully? How could you forget?"

"Tlaloc," Coyo faced her friend, "does she mean—"

The Yaoqui stepped forward, her Bazooka unearthing deep lines in the soil. "You're his _son_! And he isn't here."

"What do you want with Nopaltzin?" Leo asked.

"Tell me where he is, I'll let you know."

"Amo." Coyo readied her Ayannite spear, gripping its cool shaft with wet palms. "Yaoqui assault end. No pass Xelihuiyan."

"Sheh-leh-what? Oh. That?" The Yaoqui pointed at the shrinking barrier. "Whoever said _my_ goal was to pass it?"

If not to pass then...

"This is the distraction," Coyo told Leo and Tlaloc in Nahuatl. "One of the other sites are the real target."

"Beverly! Beverly, do you Rodger?"

The Yaoqui pulled a box-like device off her belt then pushed its sides, saying, "Ten-four, Quincy. What's the issue?"

A winded, crackling voice sounded from the device, "You may wanna get to the river. There's a person of interest I'm sure you'd love to kill personally, one with an impressive scar."

"Quincy," Beverly's calm voice betrayed her wild expression, "you better keep him alive until I get there. Or so help me."

"Got it, got it. Just get your ass moving. Xander's having, uh, issues with these Jinchos."

When the device returned to its resting place, Beverly sickened Coyo's stomach with a smirk. The Yaoqui held her tongue, yet her eyes spoke of revenge before she darted from the scene, across the collapsed passage.

"Tlaloc, wait!" Coyo called as the man followed suit.

"She will not harm my father!" Tlaloc replied.

"Hurry!" added Leonardo.

"But—" Too late; the underlings disappeared before their Chief could consider all the angels and she was left with an unconscious Yaoqui and no guide to lead her back through the tunnel maze.

* * *

The Science Division's IgR Disrupter burned Xander's palms. He had been instructed to use gloves, yet lost them early in the battle. Who cared? The pain kept him collected as the round machine hummed with an effort to reach the two Jinchos huddled over a dying tribesman. Their bodies of light flickered, and their invisible arms reached up. Quincy's Bazooka shots no longer affected the much smaller force field crafted from its crumbled marker. But their tenacity was waning like the blood that flowed from their so-called protectors.

"Ain't so chatty now, huh?" Xander asked through the heavy rainfall. "I warned you to stay out of my head."

"You haven't subdued those guys yet?"

"Quincy." Xander glared at his partner, who held his ground against a teenager. "When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it."

Quincy parried the teen's spear with a lopsided smile. "You never ask, though."

"So take a hint."

"How about we switch dance partners? It's been kind'a boring since Beverly got here."

Xander scoffed, attention drifting to the Ahab-like woman and her White Whale, the man with the chest scar. Her assault against him was so ferocious she could stand her ground against the other tribesman who intervened. She forced them aside, even the mutant, and channeled her rage towards the gray-haired warrior.

"Do you remember me?" she screamed.

The old tribesman caught her arm, shoved her sideways.

"Do you remember me?" she repeated. "Do you remember that night? My parents asked one thing, just one thing! And you—"

Her passion left her vulnerable to her enemy's fist. The impact made her recoil, but a throaty snarl lent her energy to snap-kick the old man into a tree.

"I was a child!" she continued. "You didn't have to leave me behind to watch them drown, bleed, plead for me." She drew a shuddering breath. "Your son could reach me. You could reach me. And you let me fall with them!"

The old man had no idea what Beverly was talking about, not fully, and the woman shook under his vacant expression.

"You may not understand English," she told him. "You understand bloodthirst, though. By the end of today, you'll know regret and fear, too."

Hiss! Xander dropped to a knee, weighted by his soaked uniform as his skin began to sizzle under the IgR Disrupter. It hurt—damn did it hurt—but worse still was the invasive push inside his brain. ' _Fucking Jinchos still think I wanna talk._ ' Maricons.

"Xander!"

Was there something wrong with letting a man concentrate? The Mexican glanced over his shoulder, although Quincy never spoke. His opponent did, the mutant turtle named Leonardo.

"Xander," the beast added.

"How the hell do you know my name?"

"You met a Languu once. Zaddir."

"So?"

"He talking about the Jincho that tried to make a deal with you?" Quincy interjected. He dodged the mutant's metal spear, just shy of losing an eye. "How does he know about that?"

Leonardo shuffled somewhere outside Xander's vision. "Doesn't matter. What matters is she was telling the truth."

"She?"

"Will you be quiet?" Leo asked Quincy. "I'm not talking to you. Xander."

The Mexican insisted on looking down. He watched his pores change color, and the Disrupter's teal center brighten as Leonardo continue.

"Listen. We have connections. Well, I do. I could—" A swoosh sounded then the squish of disturbed mud. "I have friends, scientists, doctors. Gavin Anders has been aware of the IgRs for years. I'm sure between him, my brother and others, we can save Lizbeth."

"Shut up!" Xander bellowed. Clanks rung out, metallic and cold. "Bishop promised the solution. That's why I signed up for this shitty gig."

"And how many years has it been since he made that promise?"

The man didn't like to consider it, so he didn't. "These aliens are the key to curing her."

"I do not deny that. But." Leo grunted, and his voice grew strained. "Bishop's made promises to save other families, too. Ever hear of Charles Kingston?"

Vaguely. The award-winning German had been recruited for the initial IgR research but turned on the organization. What did that matter?

"Kingston thought Bishop could help. He couldn't. All that man cares about is longevity and his insane goal of eradicating everything unique from this planet!"

"Are you seriously holding a conversation with this guy, Xan? Come on!" Quincy rounded the Mexican, running backward with a half-shrug and stolen spear. "Thought you were against letting people in your head?"

Had Xander's hands not been melded to the IgR Disrupter, he would've covered his ears. Everyone needed to shut up! Why did they all insist on warping his judgment? Both sides offered promises that neither looked capable of fulfilling. But he needed the chance. For Lizbeth's sake. So which was the right choice? Which would save his lover?

"Uh, Xan, should your do-hickey be making that noise?"

Bright lights blinded the Mexican with blue hues and intense heat. He felt apprehension build up at his core, made worse when the Jincho's barrier imploded. The skeletal creatures screeched—a pain heard only within his mind—and blood sprayed outward with rain as their disrupted energy tore apart their fallen protector.

This was wrong. The device should've subdued the aliens yet their ghost bodies contorted, growing dim with strangled pleas and grim realization. To survive, Xander must harness the power he had hoped to keep buried, and maybe, just maybe, those caught in his psychic cocoon would either keep his secret or die before revealing it.


	30. Forward

**A/N:** And the build-up continues.

 _DuckiePray_ \- /sings/ Things may not turn out how you expect ~ :D

 _Sciencegal_ \- Oh, it gets worse.

 _music_ \- Here's more for the craving!

* * *

 **CHAPTER 29:** **FORWARD**

K **'** ekchi village was solemn. Partly because the children remained in their homes and dense clouds blotted out the sun. But mostly because the Shaman's floral incenses failed to mask the stench of death in the streets. Izel scrunched her nose, watching her grandmother's hut from across the dirt path.

"They are almost done?" a raspy voice asked her.

The skinhead glanced at Leonardo then at Xipil and Necalli as they carried in another mutilated corpse to the Shaman. "Practice," she grumbled.

"Will they be buried all at once?"

"Quema. Tonight. The whole village will be present."

"And Coyo will give the eulogy?"

Izel's expression puckered as she faced the ayotl. "How are you today, Leonardo? You look nothing like you were caught in a—uh, what did you call it?"

"Explosion," Leo answered. Overnight, his skin had healed from a red glaze to its normal leafy green complexion and left no scars. "I recover fast, as you know."

"Which worked in Taloc's favor."

"I wish I could've done more than shield him. I'm only one body, though. the others..." Leo let out a noisy sigh. "This whole mess sits like an anchor on Coyo's chest. I feel it."

"What do you feel? Hum?" Spinning, the skinhead looked the ayotl in the eye, brows lowered. "Sorrow? Anger? What? She has shut me out. Will not talk or listen. She sits aloft in that tree, awaiting something that may never come. Even Tlaloc—"

"Izel, this is a mourning day; be respectful," Tlaloc interjected.

The warrior laid a hand on Izel—a gentle act that betrayed his usual gruffness. Izel craned her neck sideways to argue, yet lost her voice when she faced him. No matter how nagging he could be, his swollen eyes and nappy appearance were glaring reminders of his loss.

"Tlaloc," Leo started, "you were helping them?"

Tlaloc nodded, pushing his unkempt hair backward. "My—my father was, well—it was what he wanted. And as Tonalquizca leader, it is my place."

"Did you bless them?" Izel whispered. "Extli? Panpan?"

"Ohtli. Amoxtli. My father. Everyone."

"At this rate"—Izel shook, sucking in death's rancid smell—"there will be no defense left against the Yaoqui."

"Our numbers can be counted on two hands," Tlaloc added.

"Excluding Coyo."

The man released a long, controlled breath. "Ayotl, you said you feel her."

"Were you listening?" Leo asked.

"Answer, please."

Leo rolled his head before complying. "Sh—she cannot face you. Either of you. She is frustrated, scared, ashamed."

"Ashamed?" Izel questioned.

"I—I cannot say why. But last night I did not sleep because of images in my head. Memories of yesterday and something about you, Izel."

"M—me?"

"They were snippets. Buzzing insects. Tacky hands. A pool of blood. Your father, I think."

Chills stiffened Izel's body as her lips trembled, "H—how…? Did you see that through Mozallo?"

Leo's softened look confirmed it.

"Talk with Coyo," Tlaloc spoke with downturned lips. His bloodshot eyes grew glossy as if he would cry again, but he met the turtle creature with a proud posture. "She must press forward, rally her surviving warriors. Without a plan or leadership or will, the Yaoqui will destroy us. And the war our ancestors fought, their sacrifices, will be for naught. I"—his voice cracked—"I will not let my father's death be in vain. Neither should she."

"Is this the message you want to give her?"

"She will confide in you, Ayotl. Always does. Perhaps that is easier since you cannot hide what is inside."

"Road goes both ways," Leo grumbled. "I have dreamed of enough orphan stories to last several lifetimes. Uh, sorry."

Tlaloc shook his head. "We are not the first nor only orphans in our tribe. And none blame Coyo for our losses. Ensure she believes that."

"The Yaoqui took our parents," Izel added, fists tight. "She has done nothing except help ease that pain for us. We need her this time, too."

"Will do," Leo's voice hardly carried over the sound of oncoming storms, and he smiled at the skinhead. "Just one thing."

"Which is?"

"Where's the lookout tree again?"

* * *

Coyolxauhqui dare not leave her post—not to pee, to eat, to wake her numb limbs, nor to heed Yolotli's squawks about Leonardo. She kept her attention trained on the horizon, disregarding the turtle-man that sat beside her on the lookout's wooden platform.

"This crow's nest is a little sketchy," Leonardo said in English.

What did 'sketchy' mean? Or 'crow's nest'? Coyo almost asked.

"Do you plan to sit here forever?" Leo added. When the woman refused to reply, he sighed. "Izel and Tlaloc are worried."

So they acknowledged how ill-fitted their friend was as Chieftain? Good.

"That's not it," the turtle-man continued. Coyo sent him a side-glance, if only because Yo's squawk compelled her to. "They're worried _for_ you."

"Maybe they wrong," the woman spat in English. Yo flapped his wings, colorful feathers ruffled. He made a clicking noise then perched on the top edge of Leo's back shell.

"I agree," Leo told him. He half-smiled as the cochotl bobbed his head, although that smile grew strained when he faced Coyo. "What do you hope to prove?" he asked. "This place isn't where you're most needed."

Coyo's head shook. "K'ekchi no need Coyo."

"They do."

"No. Coyo wait, make better."

"By excluding yourself? Forgive me, but you can guard the borders until you wither. It won't resurrect anyone." Leo shared her hurt; Coyo felt his pain in her chest as strongly as she felt his fingertips on her forearm.

"Coyo let us divide," she whispered in Nahuatl. "It felt wrong, but Nopaltzin decided, and she lacked the courage to stop him."

"What was the alternative? Stay in a group?"

"Had our numbers been united, we would have salvaged all three sites."

"Not in time, especially if we did not arrive at the river until last."

Right; because then no one would have stood in the way of Xander destroying more Tepianis. Xelihuiyan would have been eradicated, K'ekchi Village exposed, and the death toll would have been greater than six.

"Coyo failed, Leonardo. She had a small group near the end, and not even they listened."

"Coalt and Huemac did."

"Fear and an easy task motivated them."

"I doubt dealing with Bart was easy in their eyes."

"They needed only hold him prisoner."

"Until he took a Swan Dive into the quarry."

What was a swan?

"Nevermind," Leo added. Yo's talons clicked against his shell as the two shifted in the lookout. "Coyo, you are not at fault. Not for failing to foresee which sites were a distraction. Not for Bart's suicide or the explosion, and not for your warrior's sacrifices."

"Coyo sent them there. They _trusted_ her, and…"

The turtle-man scoffed. "How can you blame yourself if you don't blame me for the Summers or Hall F?"

"Th—they were not your people."

"I felt responsible. Like you. So I know it is pointless to sit here."

"It is. But"—Coyo's breath caught in her throat—"I cannot perform more funerals. I cannot."

"You can," Leo countered, stern. "You will. Your friends need you, Coyo. At your village. By their sides."

"I have let them down. Teachcauh as well."

"They don't blame you. They blame the EPF."

"How do you—?"

"They told me, as they would tell you. Listen." Leonardo's fingers wrapped around the Chieftain's bicep then tugged. The usual weakness she experienced under his touch was hampered by raw emotions. She met the turtle-man with a hard stare. It left him undeterred as he placed a hand on her neck, where he likely felt her quick pulse and clammy skin. "You've conquered guilt before," he continued. "Don't let it beat you now."

"Coyo tired," Coyo whispered.

"I know."

"War long. Wha…want it finished."

"Sounds familiar." Leo somewhat smirked as his thumb stroked the woman's cheek. "Waiting on the outskirts for an attack will do no good, though. If you want it over with, fight. Move forward. Strike back."

"With what force? We—"

"You're out-gunned, out-numbered, not outmatched. My brothers and I were a team of four, yet we took down armies."

"K'ekchi are not Hamatos."

"You are like them though."

Coyo watched Leo smile, unsure in her reply, "Yaoqui have many advantages. Technology. Members. Information. Ke'ekchi are confined, blind. We know nothing outside Xelihuiyan."

"Then fix that. Scout the outer areas. Find their main base. Destroy it."

"We cannot leave Xelihuiyan."

"Then don't. Search the same way you find pitzol herds and contact the Pesto Tribe."

Coyo's gaze found Yo as the cochotl clicked his tongue. "Tlacatetza killed Yo's flock. For their songs! If seen—"

"They'll have no idea he belongs to you. Cruel or not, I doubt the EPF will waste ammo on every animal that comes close."

"But—"

"When your team is small, you need every advantage."

The Chieftain continued to stare at her animal companion: a creature she had raised since before he grew feathers. He was ignorant of what might be asked of him, yet he cocked his head, white eye meeting her gaze without waver.

Her lips twitched upward when she stroked his beak then quivered when he squawked, "Yo find Yaoqui! Yo find Yaoqui!"

"It's possible to win, Coyo," added Leonardo. He squeezed her neck as if to remind her of their closeness. "Believe that. For your people. For Izel. Huitzi. Tlaloc. Me. Yo."

The woman chuckled—an act that overtook her despite the grim reality. The last thing she wished to think about was war tactics, yet with Leo, she felt stronger, assured, as if any plan they made would never fall short. Perhaps he had been sent by Ometeotl after all. To her, though, not the village. How could he have been meant for anyone else?

"You aren't alone," Leo added in English. "I can't lead you; it's not my place. But I'll help. I think…I think that's what I need."

"Helping Coyo helps Leo?"

"Yeah."

Coyolxauhqui mirrored the turtle-man's smile with an ache in her stomach. Instincts urged her forward, tempted by his sincere eyes. Was that acceptable? Was it possible he felt the pull as well? If he did, he caught himself before he acted. He cleared his throat then let his hand fall with a suddenness that left Coyo chilled and Yolotli fidgety.

"Let's talk with the others," he continued as the cochotl nudged his head against the turtle-man's cheek. "Between the Elders, the Tonalquizca, and the Languu, I'm sure we can come up with a way to beat the EPF. And if we're going after them, I need to unearth something."

"Unearth?" Coyo questioned. She watched Leo stand and accepted the hand he offered.

"Remember my, uh, episode with the boar?"

"Quema." Coyo wobbled on numb legs, recalling bloody memories that were not her own. "Leo felt shame, hid his..."

"That's right." Leo's smile returned when he guided the woman towards the lookout's rope ladder. "It's time I picked up my katanas again."

* * *

Xander's pulse thumped in his ears. It was all he heard above the chaotic mummers throughout HQ, Beverly's ridicule, and Barrett's commands. He was exposed, singled out, and like a mole trusted into daylight, powerless against those who guided him to Agent Rook's private quarters. He fell on his knees before his boss; vision warped, body weightless.

"Well, well, well," Rook started, "you're full of surprises, eh, Mano?" The Peurto Rican chuckled—a sound distorted in Xander's ears by fatigue and dread. "A telekinetic under my command. It's unbelievable. How did you hide that power from the recruit screening process?"

Xander swallowed then cringed at his throat's rawness. He refused to answer, but Rook kept smiling, rubbing his groomed beard while squatting. He brushed dirt patches off his subordinate's uniform then rubbed the blood on the younger agent's unsteady hands. Human blood. Quincy's blood.

"That story you told during your initial interview," Rook added, "about the psycho who killed your Ma. It wasn't about a stranger, was it?"

God, why couldn't Xander look away? His eyes prickled, blurring the Puerto Rican's face into blotches of brown, gray, and white.

"You weren't scared of trains afterward, Mano. You were scared before. But for a boy to kill his own Ma over a—a—a whistle? Diantre!"

The fear ran deeper than a whistle. Trains were the reason Xander no longer had either parent. He remembered the warmth down his legs as he peed himself when his father forced him through the broken window of the driver's side. He remembered the oil scented dirt he took shelter in, the metallic screech as the locomotive obliterated the family SUV. He remembered it as easily as a psychic bubble that snapped his mother's bones and coffee cup—all because the local train station had increased traffic.

"Guess it doesn't matter, huh?" Rook asked. "Sure, you killed a few friendlies, but you also took out some Jinchos." The senior agent looked up, maybe at Beverly, then smiled again. "Oh, Mano, Mano, Mano." He gave Xander's shoulder a stern pat. "I can overlook this…slight. Honest to God, Bishop won't know. Just cooperate. With you, we can make our biggest strike yet. What do ya say?"

There was no choice; if Xander ever wanted to see Lizbeth again, there was only one answer he could give.


	31. Tlahcoyan

**A/N:** Calm before the storm.

 _Sciencegal_ \- Xander's led a shitty life that's about to get worse...

 _DuckiePray_ \- Those two have been great for each other, more than I anticipated they would. As Leo begins to rise again, Coyo starts to stumble and he has the new footing to help her along. Unexpected turns, man. Like Xander. I'm glad you feel for him because, well, you'll see.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 30:** **TLAHCOYAN**

The time to strike the Earth Protection Force had come, and Leonardo could hardly believe it. His last two months had felt more like short weeks—despite the strategizing, training, and continuous debates amongst the Languu and K'ekchi. Part of him wished Yolotli hadn't tracked the soldiers so thoroughly. Still, another part longed to see how Coyolxauhqui would flourish in the situation.

' _She has a chance to shine,_ ' the mutant thought. ' _If the Elders would stop forcing ideas into her head, they would see what I do. She can finish this war. She can save her people. And then_ _…_ '

Leo frowned as a seizing pain hardened his stomach. He leaned over a sheet of parchment set within the fire pit's light, and his quill pen marked it in bold, Japanese characters.

Sensei,

My letters have been scarce since last Fall. Forgive me. I've been busy, but now it's late, and I can't sleep.

My time here is drawing to a close. I can sense it. We're preparing for something big, something that will end a fifty-year conflict. The mess here will come to a head. The crazy thing is it doesn't scare me. I honestly feel like we're going to win.

Leo inhaled the woody scent of the fire, continuing.

Winning. That's what scares me. Because when we win, I must return home.

Don't get me wrong. I miss everybody. I love them. And I bet much has changed. But I'll have to leave someone here. She's helped me through so much. Truth be told, every time I think about telling her my plans, my voice leaves me. I look into her sun eyes and become scared. Scared I'll hurt her. Scared she'll cry for me. Scared I'll never see her smile again…

That's probably the last problem you want to hear, right? If I could've grown attached to any woman, why couldn't it have been someone in New York?

Leo blinked his stinging eyes then pushed the parchment aside. He couldn't finish the letter, not without crying, and he chuckled as he watched the low flames flicker in the fire pit. If only his brothers could see him so emotional over a human; they'd never let him live it down. And yet, any teasing would be worth seeing Coyo's smile every morning.

Too bad those days weren't meant to last.

Every man, woman, and child in K'ekchi Village gathered around a make-shift platform at Tlahcoyan's center, where Huitzilopochtli watched his sister bathe in the sunset's warm rays. The Chieftain fidgetted under their stares, hands wringing, eyes erratic, and voice unsteady.

"Today, well, today..." Coyolxauhqui cleared her throat. "Not long ago, we burned more dead. Th—they have risen to Ometeotl's side, and their names are memorialized in our hearts and...and Ilnahio."

"Eel-nah-he-oh?" Leonardo whispered beside Huitzi. "That's the place where we scattered the ashes, right? The graveyard?"

"Born of dust, return to dust," the man whispered back. "But as you saw, it is less of a graveyard and more of a memorial."

"A war memorial."

"Decades in the making."

What leverage Ilnahio gave Coyo's speech left her brother curious, and everyone remained quiet as she collected her thoughts. Perhaps that lent strength to her tone. Or maybe it came from the nod Leonardo sent.

"Times have changed since our ancestors first marked their bodies with Texohuitztli," she said. "Eztaca forced us to flee south from our native homeland, and we have spent generations in hiding from not only the Yaoqui but other tribes as well. We have dwindled: spiritually, physically, emotionally, and Coyo understand cultural stability is almost all that remains. You expect her to harden, to accept fate, to become a model chief, a warlord. She cannot."

Huitzi lowered his brows, gaze set on Leonardo. "Where is she going with this?" he asked.

The turtle-man kept focused on the Chieftain yet shrugged.

Murmurs rose across Tlahcoyan, quelled by Coyo's hand gesture and escalating voice, "Traditionally, we fight for the fallen whose ashes fertilize Ilnahio. We seek vindication for those taken by Yaoqui, those we pray Ometeotl will receive. Like Tatli and Mantli."

Sharp gasps cut through the silence—disproval from the Elders. However, Huitzi held his tongue. Coyo knew the impact of such intimate terms, and, for once, her smile showed a fearlessness in using them.

"We are mostly orphans," she continued, "so consider _why_ our parents died. They died for us. Not so we could keep fighting, but so we could live. That is what Coyo want most. Freedom." The Chieftain wavered in voice and body yet kept smiling as she studied her people. "Yo has found where the Yaoqui hide. When night rises, our Tonalquizca will strike their heart. We should not do this with vengeance or rage. When we gather, when we face those tlacatetza, do it for our future. Do it so the next K'ekchi generation can grow up unafraid. Do it so—so—"

Coyo choked on her words; Huitzi found himself struck by the scene. Despite the tears that stained her cheeks, his sister stood upright, glowing from the evening haze as well as an inner passion. Was this what bravery looked like on her? It looked stunning, and only one name entered the man's mind when he considered who to thank.

"Fight, so our children have a reason to laugh," Coyo added once collected. "Love, promise, and peace are what I fight for. If any disagree—"

"We do not." Huitzi expected Izel to interject first. She did not. Tlaloc stepped forward, regarding his Chieftain with proud posture. "I will follow you," he said. "For our future. Wherever that may lead."

Ollin and Sanite approached as well, with the youngest warriors beside them. They surrounded Coyolxquhqui, adorned in animal-skin armor, spears, and wooden breastplates. One by one, they bowed to their knees. Coyo's tears increased, but she did not begin shaking until the entire tribe followed suit—including her brother, best friend, and Leonardo.

"Kindness and positivity are Coyo's greatest strengths," said Leonardo, head lowered. "This is what I have been waiting for everyone else to realize."

Huitzi smiled in return. "You were right," he admitted. "And I have never seen a more beautiful site."

"Me either…" Leonardo's voice trailed off as the crowd stood again.

They cheered, rallied by their Chieftain's laughter, and Huitzi watched the turtle-man steel himself with a heavy heart. ' _Great Ometeotl. Leonardo and Coyo share a bond lovers would envy. When the time comes, can he bring himself to leave?_ '

"Leo! Leo, Coyo did it!"

Leonardo chuckled, smiling at the woman who parted the energetic masses. "I heard," he told her.

"Teueltiuh finally speaks her mind!" Izel sang. The skinhead hugged her shorter friend from behind as Tlaloc approached. "The whole village believes in you, as they should. I wish I could come."

Coyo's round lips turned lopsided. "You are awful with a weapon."

"I draw more of my blood than others'."

"I will prepare the Tonalquizca," Tlaloc said. "Ayotl, are those your weapons?"

"Huh?" Leonardo glanced down at the long swords tethered to a leather belt around his waist. "Uh, yeah. I got them from my old campsite. The place had been raided, probably by EPF. They took my gear, the bastards."

"The blades are rusted."

"Well, they were in the ground for a few months, so..."

"Ground?" The warrior shook confusion from his face. "We have time. We will clean them, and if Teo permit, reinforce them with Ayannite."

"Wait, you can do that? Can they do that?" Leonardo looked down at Huitzi with expectant eyes.

"If they agree," Huitzi answered.

"You boys go play with pointy things," Izel said, shooing them away. "We will prepare supper. Warriors cannot storm an enemy base with empty stomachs."

"They could, technically," Leonardo added.

"And give away your positions when your stomachs growl?"

"Touché."

"It is decided. Come, Coyo!" Izel pulled her best friend to the cauldrons, and Huitzi tailed them when Tlaloc and Leonardo headed for the smithery. If the women planned on cooking, he planned on snitching samples.

* * *

Nothing matched the splendor of Izel's supper. Sliced Naranjillas, stewed beans, and fried Manzano served atop a Plantain leaf? Delicious. The river fish that had been seasoned and roasted in that same Plantain leaf? Juicy. All this accompanied by a small portion of Encebollado? Heavenly. Izel was salivating just waiting for her guests to arrive!

"Wipe your mouth, child," Nenetl chided. The old woman smirked, using her staff to help lower her body onto a straw mat beside Huitzilopochtli.

"You can be so slow, Citli," Izel countered.

"Had you helped us older ladies, maybe I would have been faster."

"Doubtful. You had it handled anyway. All I wanted was—" A happy memory to hold onto while Coyo would be away. Then the Chieftain had to go argue that preparing a meal with the entire tribe would be better. "So," she added, somewhat bitter, "here we are: one giant ring of hungry people. Waiting. Where are Leo and Tlaloc?"

"Relax, we're here," Leonardo spoke in English. He kneeled on a mat beside Coyolxauhqui before Tlaloc could.

The warrior soured yet accepted defeat by sitting at the ayotl's side without complaint. "His weapons are ready," Taloc told the group.

"Re-forged in Ayannite," Leonardo added. The long blades clacked together as their wielder showed them off. He moved so fast, Izel leaned back when they materialized above her head, although she trusted the creature would not harm her. "They're lighter now, stronger."

"A lot like you, huh?" asked Izel in Nahuatl.

Leo paused, half standing. His eyes trailed the dark-metal no longer chipped or spotted brown. "Guess so," he muttered. Then he smiled. "Although their metamorphosis required less time."

"But an equal amount of heat, surely."

"And pain."

"Impressive," Huitzi said, voice dull as Leo's hands flexed. "Can we eat?"

Izel sent the bony man a smirk. "Still upset Citli made you work?"

"A man knows better than to spoil his appetite." Nenetl shook her decorated staff until it jangled. "Idle hands lead to self-indulgence, Huitzi."

"Witch."

Izel stifled laughter with her best friend. Rarely did Huitzi's boyish side surface, but crisp shuffling across Tlahcoyan cut the banter short. The Elders gained their tribe's attention with shriveled hands; four sets, all raised towards the yellow sky.

"We give thanks to Ometeotl for this meal," Acalan announced. The senior Yaocatl stood strong like a Tonalquizca, although Izel knew the only time had he wielded weapons had been when he crafted them in his youth.

"We prepared it with His love and the care of our people," Yoalt added. His saggy body was every bit as scarred as Nopaltzin's, his successor, and he exchanged a respectable nod with the warrior's heir.

"Some work less than others," Matlal added. Her sunken gaze found Izel, but the Calpocatl superior showed mercy in continuing. "Still, any progress we make with each other should be cherished."

"Which is why we must speak of our Honored Chief." Xochitl, the eldest of the old, trembled from his thin limbs to his raspy voice, although he was not fearful. His smile had but one tooth, his hair lost beyond hope, and his grandchildren aided him towards Coyolxauhqui's side of the clearing. "Where we saw preservation, she saw decay. What we clung to, she questioned. Now she changes our minds on why we fight as well. These differences made us fear she would be as Tacapantzin. We were wrong."

"She hid," Yoalt amended, "yet never became Calpollitopan."

Matlal hummed. "Despite the...crude language, we understand change and progressiveness is necessary. Perhaps there could be exceptions, even friendly songs at Xochicuicatl."

Izel jabbed an elbow into Coyo's side, although the Chieftain was too spellbound to notice.

"Tradition turned us rigid like our old joints," Xochitl said. "While we may disagree on many accounts, we also apologize, Coyolxauhqui. We held you to a standard that never brought us success in the past."

"It was one we once considered necessary and never stopped," Yoalt added.

"You do not fit it," Xochitl continued. "Nor did you want to. That is acceptable. We only ask that you forgive us for forcing it upon you."

"Yes," Coyo spoke clearly and with a broad smile. "Coyo forgive."

"Then our night is blessed. To Ometeotl and our Honored Chief!"

Tlahcoyan erupted in cheers when the Elders bowed then returned to their seats. Dull chatter soon followed, accompanied by clanking wood as famished children devoured the meals they had been smelling. Huitzi lost all manners alongside them; guess it was a rare day where Omipalan increased his hunger rather than decreased it.

"At last," Izel grumbled. She lifted her stew, inhaled the aroma, and noticed Leonardo sent his bowel a pensive stare. "Try," she told him.

The creature sent her a look. "Last time you said that I ate ants."

"There are no ants. Trust me. Drink, drink."

After a long pause, Leo sipped the yellow-brown broth. There was a satisfying slurp as he sucked in meaty bits and he chewed as if the food would bite him back.

"Good, yes?" the skinhead questioned in English. "Is Encebollado."

"What's that?" Leo replied, swallowing.

"Turtle soup." Leonardo paled; Izel had no idea he could turn so white and fought through wheezes to add, "No, no. I jest. Is tree slugs."

The creature regained some green coloring of a different shade. He gagged, staring at his stew as Izel's chuckle evolved into a chortle. Her sides ached more than the slap Coyo gave her shoulder and sweat formed on her brow when Leo handed the bowel to the Chieftain.

"Turtle soup is Zarapatoca," Coyo told Leo. She pushed the bowel back. "This no Zarapoatoca. Encebollado. Fish."

"Ye—yeah, but"—Izel inhaled noisily—"he would not try them otherwise."

"So Leo's _does_ have slugs?" Coyo whispered in Nahuatl. The skinhead let her grin answer for her. " Huehuei Ometeotl, Izel."

"What? He should be more adventurous. How many chances does he have left to try our dishes?"

The atmosphere grew somber at the crackle of a fire. Izel stiffened where she had fallen on her side in laughter, watching joy fall from her friends' faces.

"Tonight, we fight the Yaoqui," Coyo said in Nahuatl. She stared with unseeing eyes, switching stews with Leonardo and sucking up a hearty slug. Leo shivered at her side, but the Chieftain's remained unfazed.

"Hope you have a better plan than following a cochotl through enemy territory," Huitzi told his sister.

Coyo spoke while chewing, "I do."

"No, you do not," Tlaloc argued. "Unless you mean the insane one where you are captured on purpose."

"We have no choice." Leo looked down at the curly-haired woman then the warrior. "Forest base or not, this _is_ the EPF. They tend to overcomplicate security measures. Yo has gone through the trouble of scoping out traps and cameras, but without a hacker..."

Izel furrowed her brows. "What is a 'hacker'?"

"Someone I'm missing right about now," Leo answered. He sighed, slumped his shoulders, and Izel pushed herself back into a sitting position as Coyo spoke up.

"Coyo trust Tonalquiza will follow safely. Her surrender will give them the chance to enter their base."

"But"—Huitzi choked on his words—"you will be vulnerable."

The Chieftain met her brother with warm eyes. "We are all vulnerable. Coyo chooses to make that vulnerability an advantage."

"A Trojan Horse," Leo added.

Huitzi glared at the creature. "And if the Yaoqui suspect it is a trap?"

"They will. Still, what counter-measures can they have against people who until now have been nothing more than shadows to them?"

Izel shut up, maybe for the same reason everyone else did. Leonardo made a fair point, and she would rather spend time eating than considering odds or 'what if' situations. The group exchanged smiles when they returned to their plates; however, behind the casualness lied the realization that the meal could be the last they ever shared.


	32. Strike (Part 1)

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. :D

 _musicluvr_ \- Wise words from a wise master.

 _Sciencegal_ \- I had NO clue what that woman would say up on stage. She has far more positivity than planned. Especially compared to Nia, Sophia, and Mel...

 _DuckiePray_ \- Always brace for the unexpected, as you well know. ;)

 _D_ \- Coyo just needed SOMEONE (except Izel) to believe in her way. *nods* Now, prepare.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 31:** **STRIKE (PART 1)**

Trembles raced through Coyolxauhqui for indeterminable reasons. They could stem from the adrenaline that heightened her senses the closer Yolotli lead her to the Yaoqui. They could be leftover emotions from her speech at Tlahcoyan. Or maybe they belonged to someone else entirely. Perhaps Zaddir as she stood guard with the other Teo or…

Coyo glanced towards Leonardo. The turtle-man crept through the night, veering no further from her right than Tlaloc did from her left. He spared a look as he passed through several ferns, but the smile he once wore had died the moment the Tonalquizca entered the rainforest.

It was strange watching him transform from a supportive friend into a warrior. Alarming, even. Was this the confident grace he had shown in New York City?

"Must you gawk?" a voice whispered in Coyo's ear.

The woman jolted; she did not realize how close Tlaloc had come. "I was not—"

"Focus," Tlaloc continued.

"Coyo is!"

"On our strike? Or Ayotl?"

Coyo sighed, following the sound of Yolotli's beating wings down a steep ravine. "Tlaloc."

"I worry, Chief."

"The plan will work."

"So you _plan_ on dying?" At the ravine's bottom, Tlaloc sunk in the mud. "This is a poor idea."

"And it is Coyo's. Tlaloc always says she should make more choices."

"I was mistaken."

"I understand your feelings," Leonardo interjected. Yo perched on his shell's edge, head bobbing when the turtle-man nodded at Tlaloc. "You think I like this idea? You are not the only one who cares for Coyo."

Tlaloc answered with silence and an expression hidden under the moon's subtle light.

"The alternative is we get captured as a group," the turtle-man continued. "Which makes it harder to sneak around."

"One of us should go with her."

"No." Coyo patted Leo's front shell and Tlaloc's tacky chest. "Coyo will surrender. Coyo alone."

"This ruse—"

"Will help. Trust me. Please."

"Chief!" Coaxoch pointed at a break in the tree canopy. "Is that the Yaoqui village?"

"Not so much a village as an outpost," Leo said. "These people are not a family."

The young woman glowered, scrunching her face's burned skin. "What do you mean?"

"All I can tell you is that I have seen many EPF idiots sacrifice each other for personal gain."

"How can an army last if their people undermine one another?"

"That is a question we plan to test." The turtle-man chuckled briefly, a hand on Coaxoch's shoulder, and Yo took flight as he faced Coyo. "A coastal base," he added. "High ground. Ample cover, surprisingly. They did not want to be snuck up on."

That was an understatement, Coyo decided. She stared up the revine's opposite side. The entrance looked no more impressive than a slab of smooth, moss-riddled stone nestled in a dirt mound, and its slender door loomed with the mature trees that obscured it. It had no visible locks, no weapons, no warnings, yet it made the Chieftain's chest thump faster when she noticed the ambient glow beyond it.

"Shit," Tlaloc spat. "We were prepared for a wall. This?"

"I doubt their whole base is underground."

"Do you, Ayotl?"

No; Mozallo filled Coyo's mind with images of a mesh cage as if to tell her Leo only hoped their battle would take place above ground. "You will find a way," the Chieftain told her warriors. "Coyo's distraction will help."

"Distraction?" Huemac questioned.

Coyo sent her people a lopsided grin.

* * *

"Yaoqui scum! See Coyo? Open! Open!"

Leonardo struggled not the laugh where he hid amongst tree branches. However, he found it difficult to keep quiet when Coyolxauhqui flailed below. She waved, danced and taunted the security cameras in a way Michelangelo would envy.

"Did she learn this tactic from you, Ayotl?" Tlaloc whispered on the same branch.

"This is all her," Leo replied.

"Coyo make truce!" Coyo continued. "Hear? Yes? Pialli?" Snarling, the woman kicked the door with bare feet. "Open, stupid, stupid—"

Floodlights ignited the area, the entrance groaning as its rusted entry panned upwards to reveal four soldiers. Each aimed a Plasma Rifle at the Chieftain, and a hot surge pulsed below Leo's plastron when one tapped his weapon's muzzle between her shoulder blades.

"You speak English?" he asked.

"Coyo can." Coyo kept her tone even, despite the anxiety the mutant sensed through Mozallo.

"I didn't ask about Coyo," Soldier A spat. "I asked about you."

"She _is_ Coyo, Idiot," Soldier B added.

"Talks in third person?" Soldier C snorted. "Weirdo."

"What are you here for?" asked Soldier D, the most disciplined-sounding of them all. "How did you find us? Why did you leave your barrier?"

Coyo's anxiety cooled; it left Leo tingling. "Take Coyo to Yaoqui chief."

Soldier C sniggered, rifle lowering to the tribeswoman's gut when he performed the 'Robot' with one arm. "Take me to your leader."

Soldier D sent him a glare. "Knock it off."

"Sorry, Man. This is exciting. I mean, we do almost nothing here. Now?" Soldier C stepped forward. He should count himself lucky the mutant had no Shuriken; otherwise, the ass would've bled when his attention traveled down the Chieftain's torso. "We get to offer Rook some fine meat."

"Not ordinary meat," Soldier A corrected. "The savages' leader. Right?"

"K'ekchi no savage," Coyo hissed. "Yaoqui are."

"Let's agree to disagree," said Soldier C.

"She just offers herself on a silver platter?" Soldier D's rifle clicked against the tribeswoman's arm, and she flinched. "Smells like a set-up."

"Tribe no know Coyo with Yaoqui. She want no blood, no pain. Tired. Hurt. Want truce."

"You really think Rook would accept a truce?"

"Well," Soldier B faced Soldier D, "he does like talking. And if this is a trap, there's only one way to find out."

"Let's go see the boss," Soldier C added. He shoved Coyo towards the open entrance. "I'll frisk her inside for anything odd."

 _'Touch her,_ ' Leo thought as the group filed through the closing door, ' _I'll remember your uniform number._ '

"Ayotl"—Tlaloc's brows furrowed—"what does 'frisk' mean?"

"It means he'll lose his hands," Leo answered in English.

"What do we do now?" Coalt asked from a higher branch.

Leo gave the teen a nod. "Stick to the trees like Coyo wanted. Their base is bound to be exposed somewhere."

"Can Leonardo handle the trees?" Coaxoch teased with a smirk. "Last time, you lost against Hupaxque."

Leo mirrored the young woman's smirk. "I will be hyper-alert for any super spiders this time. Bite me once, shame on me. Bite me twice?" Coaxoch stared with bright yet blank eyes. Right, she would be unfamiliar with such a saying. "Nevermind. Yo, stay here. Tlaloc?"

Yo squawked disapproval when Tlaloc motioned for his warriors to follow but obeyed. Leonardo trailed behind, cutting back his speed so he would not outshine the Tonalquizca superior. It was harder than expected; he glided across the canopy effortlessly, lept from branch to branch before the limbs had a chance to sink with his weight. Recro-12 granted him the agility, and for once, he considered the serum an asset.

Soon, the horizon's distant glow intensified into commercial-grade spotlights, but not before the trees doubled in size. Genetic engineering was an obvious factor in the EPF's coverage, and the Tonalquizca sat so far above the outpost that the cliffside breeze chilled Leo. Soldiers busied themselves around tube tents, either jogging, training, chatting, or organizing crates and machinery.

"I do not see Coyo." Tlaloc sounded panicked and hung between branches like a monkey.

"They may have taken her another route," Leo said. "Or we missed her."

"Seems like a waste to have such a fortified gate for a base so easily accessible."

"It makes sense, actually. Its the only level passage. Like back at the quarry. The place is protected by a cliff and rock faces. Doubt they accounted for a strike team to swing in from the trees like Tarzan."

"Who?"

Leo grimaced; how he missed Pop Culture.

"Logical or not," Ollin added, "they have vulnerabilities."

"Do not underestimate them," Leo told the tribesman. "A maze of tents and some forklifts are not what the EPF has to offer. This is cover. They probably have cameras everywhere. Even if we managed to kill the lights, we should consider thermal vision, heat sensors, and...none of you have any idea what those are." The mutant glanced around the treetops, meeting each Tonalquizca's confused expression, from the youngest teen to oldest man. "Perfect. How about this? We need to take out their eyes. With surveillance, the weak point is that it can all be manned from one station."

"Find the station—"

Leo met Tlaloc's hard stare. "Blind them. At least long enough to get inside."

"Very well. Lead the way."

"Wait. Me?"

"I am not stupid, Ayotl. Even though I have warred with the Yaoqui longer than you, I—" The man sighed through clenched teeth. "You know what to look for. Find it."

So Leonardo wasted no time arguing; he fanned out the Tonalquizca and prayed he had picked up enough pointers over the years from Donatello not to raise any electronic red flags when he sabotaged the station.

* * *

How much further down did the Yaoqui's base go? Coyolxauhqui swore she was at the Earth's center by the time the path leveled again, and when the corroded tunnel ended, it revealed rippling blues and jagged rocks that stretched on forever. The ocean? She was to walk in the ocean? Impossible! Coyo planted her feet against the cold, hard floor to no avail; her escorts pushed her over the threshold into the cramped walkway beyond. Sea life swarmed the area with only an invisible force to keep them and a wave of water from crushing the woman. She had to wonder how the Yaoqui could trust it would not break and walked hunched until she entered a massive, round room.

"Agent Rook, special delivery," one escort said.

"About time. Did you take the scenic route?" An aged man strolled through the room's center. He spread his arms wide, dark eyes framed by silver hair both at the top and bottom of his long face. "Well, well, hail to the chief."

Coyo frowned.

"Don't get that reference? Mierda, how do you savages survive without modern art?"

The woman furrowed her brows, focusing on her enemy's grin.

"Forget it," he said. "Come, have a seat. I have so many questions. How do you know English? What brought you here? Are really a chief?"

"Uh, Sir?" another escort asked.

Rook sunk in a strange-shaped chair with a subtle curve then waved towards the group. "Dismissed."

"You're just gunna—"

Rook silenced his followers with a look so sharp Coyo shivered. "Dis. Missed." They listened, and their footfalls echoed as they backtracked through the unnatural tunnel. "Like my living room?" the man continued. "It's where I come to relax after a hard day. There's something about fish schools that's just calming. Ya know? You got a relaxation spot?"

Coyo grimaced. "You Yaoqui leader?" she asked.

"What is a Yaoqui?"

"You."

"Collective 'you' or a personal 'you'? Gotta be more specific with English."

"You!" The woman padded forward, a finger jabbed in the man's direction. "You fight. You hurt. You hunt."

"Collective 'you' then." Rook buried his fingers in his thick hair. "Our official title is the Earth Protection Force, and no, I'm not the leader. Not of the organization, anyway. I do lead this faction. So I guess the answer is yes."

"Is yes?"

"Yes. Now, seriously, take a seat. Would you like a drink? Some food, maybe? We got crab rangoons. Fresh."

Coyo narrowed her eyes, unmoving.

"Come on," the man added, "none of it is poisoned. If you're who you say you are, you're more useful alive. Trust me."

She didn't yet she believed him and slowly inched towards the seat if it meant he would consider her proposal.

"Excellent," Rook said with a laugh. Just what was so funny? "First things first, tell the truth: are you the savage leader?"

"K'ekchi Chief."

"Right. K'ekchi. Whatever. Are you? I've always imagined you as this fierce warlord, battling our forces through inhuman means, not this...little girl. You must be pulling my leg."

"Coyo no touch Yaoqui leg," Coyo spat. Nor would she want to.

Rook raised his bushy brows then drew one down. "I take it you're Coyo?"

"Coyo Ke'kchi Chief. Coyo me."

"Talking in third person? That's a new one. So, Madame Chief, care to share how you found our establishment? I'm _dying_ to know."

Coyo soured; if only.

"Decades of war and never once have your ancestors knocked on the front door. Especially not as"—the man's thin lips quirked—"spirited as you did."

"Forest see much," the woman answered. "Bring Coyo here."

"Cryptic."

"True. Yaoqui no like nature. No see. Blind."

"No, we like nature," Rook corrected, leaning forward with interlaced hands. "What we do, why we formed, is to preserve nature. Human nature. What you protect ain't human. Those Jinchos don't belong on Earth. Neither does that turtle abomination you harbor."

Did he mean Leonardo? How did they know he was with the K'ekchi?

"Oh, so I _am_ right." Rook laughed again. "Anyone ever tell you that you have a horrible poker face? Scratch that, you don't know what poker is. Uh." The man clicked his tongue then leaned back in his curved chair. "All this at stake, and you come here proposing a truce? Excuse my skepticism."

"War kill K'ekchi future," Coyo said. "War need stopped."

"And your solution is surrender? No strings attached?"

"What strings?"

Rook groaned. "Chica, you're killing me. I mean, what will this surrender cost? What are the conditions, requirements? What do you want in turn?"

Coyo had considered bartering. She never told anyone else, not even Leo, but she had rehearsed the answers so many times in her mind that she replied without hesitation, "Omipalan cure."

"Omipalan? What's that?"

"Sickness. Death. Omipalan eat insides, make bones brittle."

The man's bearded-mouth formed a circle. "You mean that parasite plague we released, like, twenty years ago. That's still around? Thought it failed."

"With Teo. Not K'ekchi."

"Shit. You drank the Kool-Aid. Are the Teo...?"

"Languu."

"Got it. Let me guess: someone you love is infected. Husband? No. Best friend? Sister? Ah, brother." Coyo's hands curled in her lap when Rook grinned. "Well, it's doable. I'm sure our scientists can whip up a treatment. Of course, that means you'll have to bring your brother here. While you're at it, you may as well bring the whole tribe. We can inoculate them all."

"All?" Coyo whispered.

"You could stay. Work for us. We have a great health care program."

Live with Yaoqui? Become Yaoqui? Never.

"Think about it, Madam Chief. What better way to guarantee your people's safety? You said yourself continuing to war would kill their future, which is why you're here. Unless these are a bunch of hollow words. I expect they are. But mine aren't. I mean it, join us; it would benefit everyone."

"Not Teo."

"Everyone _human_ then." Rook inhaled, his massive chest flexing as he rested one foot on the roundtable that separated the leaders. "Don't toy with me, puta. I've fought a long time, and I'm itching for progress. I'll have it, one way or the other. Either you do as offered, bring down your barrier and give the Languu to us. Or, I use my secret weapon to rip it apart and capture the freaks anyway. Maybe we should ask your friends what they think."

Coyo fought to hide the pain in her chest. "Friends?"

"There's no hiding from a psychic," Rook said with teeth bared. "Why don't we go join them in the training room? I'd hate to get blood on my floor."


	33. Strike (Part 2)

**A/N:** _musicluvr_ \- What is this 'smoothly' you speak of? No plan ever goes smoothly. LOL

 _Sciencegal_ \- Coyo is such a dork. I enjoy it.

 _DuckiePray_ \- Surprises around the corner!

* * *

 **CHAPTER 31:** **STRIKE (PART 2)**

Damn did Leonardo miss Donatello's tech-savvy. Until now he hadn't realized how much stress had been kept off his shoulders knowing the Genius could loop surveillance feeds or sabotage sectors with a few keystrokes. Without him, the Tonalquizca were left at the mercy of guessing blind spots in the underground tunnels, made all the more difficult by the surplus of strip fixtures, patrolling soldiers, and an awkward amount of Ayannite spears.

"Shit, were we here before?" Ollin asked. The warriors were crowded over one another to take up as little room as possible, and the older tribesman beside Leo peeked around the T-section corner. "Two-one-five."

"That room again," Huemac whined.

"This place is worse than tracking pitzol through the densest parts of the forest," Coaxoch added.

"How did our route form a circle?" Ollin continued. "Our turns were alternated."

"So we go the other way," Amoxtli said. He shifted at the pile's center, displacing Leonardo at the far bottom and Tlaloc at the top.

"We may have to kill the cameras," Leo muttered. He hated the idea; it drew attention and left a trail of breadcrumbs. But they were a strike team lost inside unfamiliar territory and no room for error.

"Yaoqui!" Huemac and Coalt whispered together.

The Tonalquizca backtracked as boots thumped against the concrete. Leo scanned the hall behind him for any options. He spotted an ajar door then tapped Tlaloc's shoulder. The leader followed the mutant's directive and made hand motions for his team to respond. They filed inside the room, clicking it shut behind them.

"Did he pass?" Coalt asked.

Leo smiled at how the teen pressed his ear against the door like he could hear anything beyond the metal slab.

"Wh—what are you doing here?" Cue trouble. Leo spun to find a willowy man in a lab coat. The scientist glared behind oversized glasses and shook. "You...you're one of _them_ ," he continued. "And you all must be..."

The man trailed off with a snarl. He arched sideways, reaching below a crowded desk. A clang then sounded—crisp and followed by the scientist's groan. He collapsed into a heap of discarded papers to reveal Coaxoch.

The teen gripped a surgical tray, burned face somewhat flush. "Was that okay?" she asked Tlaloc.

Tlaloc chuckled.

"What is this place?" Huemac's question held awe as well as fear.

Leonardo joined him in surveying the disarray room. Its lights came from a line of computer screens along the back wall and display cases that housed embalmed organisms in multiple rows. The warriors surveyed the jars, some sloshing the red-tinted liquid around.

"What is it?" Tlaloc asked.

"Genetic experiments," Leo answered.

A malformed fetus stole his attention, sunk his stomach. Its spine formed a corkscrew, its mouth frozen in a scream and its limbs fused to its torso. 'Project Demigod: Experiment 87' the plaque below it read.

"Leonardo," Coaxoch started, "what are genetic experiments?"

Leo stared at the fetus. "Morally questionable science or the future, depending on who you ask. Stem therapy, super-soldier programs, gene splicing; it means to change us into something we want. Or think we want."

"Sounds like a perversion of nature."

"Yet it is how I was made." The mutant smiled at Coaxoch, who held her tongue while silence filled the room.

He disregarded her to sift through papers along the desk where the computers were mounted. Their order made no sense, not that Leo could tell. There were mentions of a guy named Marco Rizzo—some human-Hawk experiment—a molecular breakdown of a 'Subject S' blood sample, and printed emails concerning the Davvu Stone. It wasn't referenced by its proper name; the scientists had called it 'The Stone.' But what other stone could contribute to configuring an IgR Disrupter?

' _They found a way to detain Languu?_ ' Leo thought. ' _This is what that psychic was using that day at the river. Had he succeeded..._ '

The mutant saw a familiar face and pulled out a manila folder. Clipped to its top was Nia's picture, her pale expression doped. Was this from when she had been held captive? He scanned the file.

* * *

Subject Name: Nia Rosaline Anders

Age: 19

Sex: Female

Race: Languu-Human Hybrid

Priority: High

* * *

' _High priority for his fountain of youth, eh?_ ' Scoffing, Leo lowered his vision to the notes section.

* * *

October 3, 2011

Subject easily herded, a welcome break to the other one. Have extracted IgR proteins. Unstable. Self-destructive outside the host body. Will investigate further.

October 7, 2011

Transfusions successful. Milling blood for future complications. Requested permission for additional experimentation. Awaiting reply.

October 8, 2011

* * *

Permission granted. Proceeding with Project Demigod.

Demigod? Wasn't that the name of the room's experiments? Leo glanced over his shoulder at the under-lit jars a whole second before his stomach churned. Those things came from Nia?

* * *

October 10, 2011

Eggs and semen cultivated. Not near as much as I would like, but close encounters with Subject Blackout are both rare and dangerous. Lost an assistant to retrieve the sample. Bishop deemed it acceptable, so long as I show progress. Have many long nights ahead.

* * *

What were these people hoping to accomplish? The notes never said; they only listed failed experiments, over a hundred until Nia's release.

"How long will we stay, Tlaloc?" Ollin's voice broke Leonardo's concentration but didn't ease his tight stomach.

The mutant scanned the cluttered desk then raised a hand towards Huemec. "Touch nothing!" he shouted.

Too late; the teen's curiosity proved irresistible, and he pushed a button. Blinding lights filtered through a slender window above the desk. As Leo's sight adjusted, he heard growls, inhuman sounds, trilling. Beyond the window showed a padded cell with a figure suspended inside a metal circle. The body seemed to float, although Leo doubted that was through magic. Magnets, maybe?

"Ometeotl," Tlaloc whispered.

"What?" Leo asked.

"That." Amoxtli swallowed hard. "That is Zarr."

"Zarr? As in the hybrid who ate his parents?"

Amoxtli set his wide eyes on the mutant. "How do you know the story?"

"Coyo told me," Leo answered quickly and avoided incrimination by studying Zarr.

The hybrid's limp, bald head twitched as his trilling continued. His transparent skin glowed under LED lights, and Leo swore he could count the prisoner's bones. They were subtle, dark lines through the otherwise colorless body, almost hidden under blue-white veins. The captive looked up with pit-black eyes so large and pupil-less that the younger Tonalquizca stepped back with gasps when he hissed.

Was this a typical Tlatlaco? Was this what Zaddir feared Nia would become?

"Found Subject Blackout, I see," a new voice said. The Tonalquizca readied their spears towards where Xander stood in the open doorway. "Scary shit, huh?"

"I've seen scarier," Leo answered in English.

"Señor, I found them," Xander added, hand pressed against his ear. "Clear the training room. It'll be the easiest spot if things go south."

* * *

No restraints burdened Coyolxauhqui, yet she felt like Rook's prisoner. She obeyed his lead, traveled through another unnatural tunnel and up a strange moving box to enter a room twice the size of the last. Its ceiling rivaled a tree's height, and multiple clear-walled rooms hung suspended at its center.

"Look like hamster tubes, right?" Rook asked over his shoulder. "Observation stations. Gives a bird's eye view of what our training program has to offer. Good for notes, teaching newbies what to expect. Also, has comfy seats. This way."

Rook pulled Coyo by the arm onto a textured tile. She grimaced but was kept still when the tile shifted. It glided towards one of two giant platforms anchored to the curved walls and recessed into it before the duo moved again. It left the woman feeling queasy.

"Hola, Mano!" Rook greeted. He crossed the round platform to where the Tonalquizca stood behind a well-groomed soldier, adding, "Good work with our guests."

"Guests are welcomed," Leonardo spat.

"Who says you aren't?" Rook countered. "Too bad Bishop's missing this; you Hamatos haven't been in a facility for ages. Not since the baby. Oh, wait." As Leo growled, the silver-haired tlacatetza wagged a finger. "There was that time he had the hotheaded one, wasn't there? Wonder how that went."

"Are you unharmed?" Tlaloc asked Coyo in Nahuatl.

Rook gave a long, exasperated sigh. "English folks, please."

"Why we here?" Tlaloc continued.

"Shouldn't that be my line? You people invaded _our_ privacy. And we're at fault? Ever hear of trespassing?"

"That's rich," added Leo, "coming from the people who've spent the last fifty years trying to invade a village."

"We do as necessary. Eh, Xan?" Xander turned away, silent while his superior grinned. "If you gave me a chance, you'd see I'm no monster. I want peace, too. Just ask your Madam Chief. I mean"—the man's nostrils flared with laughter—"at least she was civil enough to consider barter."

"Barter?" Tlaloc asked.

"A trade," Rook answered. "Your services for...what'd you call it? An Omipalan cure?"

Those who understood English stared at their Chieftain. Their expressions were unreadable, masking the alarm she sensed. She shook her head to signify it was a means to distract their enemy, but inside she considered complying long enough to save her brother.

"He would never forgive you," Leo told Coyo.

Rook glanced at them. "I miss something?"

No one answered.

"Alright." The senior agent whistled, arm bulging under his shirt as he stretched. "Here's the deal: are you in or out?"

Coyo's face scrunched. "In what?"

"Dios mío, the agreement, chica!" Rook gestured to the group with an emphatic hand. "Ask them. How many are as tired as you? How many would rather save their people than those life-sucking freaks? We're all human here. Well, with one exception. I'm willing to let that slide, though."

"Right." Leo scoffed. "Like you'd let me walk."

"Tortuga." Rook's dark eyes found the turtle-man. "I'm a big picture guy. Not _everything_ needs to be reported. Xander can vouch for that. Can't ya, Mano?"

Xander kept his lips downturned and vision set on the platform's lipped edge. Almost everyone present knew about his psychic abilities; Coaxoch's face had been marred by them. That should make him a prime target for the Yaoqui, yet he stood beside his leader—obedient, silent, like a tool.

"Por favor, don't make me resort to alternative orders," Rook continued. He took slow steps backward and stroked his full beard. "Wouldn't it be pointless to come all this way just to die?"

"Tonalquizca purpose is to strike Yaoqui leader down," Tlaloc said.

"Until then, we won't return," added Leonardo.

"That so?" The tlacatetza's hand fell from his silver beard to his side as he shrugged. "Guess that leaves no choice. Xander, kill 'em. Everyone except the Madam Chief and mutant."

No sooner did the claps from Rook's shoes cease, did air whistle around Coyolxauhqui. A force shot her across the platform, and her heart skipped with the thud her back made against something solid. Hot pain spread through the arm she landed on, and, breathless, she stared through her wonky vision at a semi-transparent fence that crackled when she brushed it.

"We can make barriers, too," Rook said somewhere unseen. His voice sounded jumbled, distant, and it motivated the Chieftain to stand.

Her people charged Xander in hopes one warrior would venture close enough to cut him with Ayannite fury. They failed, each momentarily convulsing when their skin sizzled against the blue fence.

' _This is why he never unarmed them,_ ' Coyo realized. ' _Their weapons_ _cannot cause harm_ _. Not this way._ '

Ometeotl, think, Coyo! Your father would keep charging alongside the Tonalquizca, no matter how fruitless. Your grandmother would seek an escape. Your mother would offer herself as a peace token. What about you? What will you do?

"Xander!" Coyo called.

The man in black uniform hesitated. Leo's blade nicked his cheek, and with a snarl, he sent the turtle-man spinning onto his back shell.

"Xander," Coyo continued over the battle noise, "no need hurt! Help K'ekchi! K'ekchi help Xander!"

"What's with you people?" Xander flinched as if struck with the same pain his mind inflicted on those he fought. "First that Jincho. Then the mutant. Now you? Why are you all so damn insistent?"

"He Yaoqui," Tlaloc hissed. "No help!"

"Xander no bad," Coyo defended. Her bare feet slid ahead, weary about where the psychic tossed his invisible sweeps. "He hurt. Scared. He love."

Xander concentrated energy around his body, so the Tonalquizca spears clanked against air. "Shut up!"

Coyo's head shook. "Zaddir promise. Keep promise. Help. Xander no bad. Xander no want hurt. Is why he walk Xelihuiyan!"

"What do you mean?" asked Tlaloc in Nahuatl. His weapon bounced off Xander's force field, and his dominant arm vibrated as he stumbled back. "He has been _inside_ our barrier?"

"That why Yaoqui know Tepiani," Coyo answered.

"And you did not tell us?"

"Xander want chance."

"You know nothing about me, Savage!"

Another force hit the Chieftain. It impacted from her waist down, causing her to bite her tongue when her chin met the metal floor. She spat out the metallic taste then stood again.

"Lizbeth," she said. Xander growled, arms outstretched with every Tonalquizca held against the crackling fence. Red dribbled from his nose, and her people screamed, but the woman kept her tone soft. "Lizbeth sick. Coyo understand pain."

"You don't—"

"Coyo brother sick. He decay. He dying."

Xander's psychic hold wavered just long enough for Coyo to step forward and the Tonalquizca to catch a breath. "Then you get why I'm doing this, what I would sacrifice for her!"

"Lizbeth live happy when other lives save her?"

"I..." Xander licked blood from his lips. "She wouldn't know."

"Xander would. Like Coyo know if she give Yaoqui the Teo. She can. Will not. Brother never want. Be unhappy. _Hate_ Coyo! Lizbeth hate Xander if he destroy K'ekchi. Xander hate self."

"It'll haunt you," Leo interjected. He panted, kneeled on the floor, a hand at his side. "Trust me, the last thing you want is deaths on your conscious."

"Been there, done that," Xander spat. "What's a few more?"

The mutant glared through the red smeared across his face. "Genocide is no light matter. Consider what Bishop's asking. Consider his promises. What has he done to show that he can save Lizbeth? She could be dead by the time he bothers with a cure, but Zaddir is willing to heal her. Now. You have to make a choice."

"He's made a choice, Tortuga!" Rook's voice boomed all around. "He took an oath, is loyal to it, to me. Best not waste precious breath."

"Agreed," Tlaloc said. Spear lifted, he inched around Xander's invisible boundary like a stalking miztli. "He tlacatetza, beast. He kill children, mothers, _fathers_. No care. No heart. No _love_. No mercy!"

Tlaloc's spear rung so violently against Xander's shield that Coyo felt its vibrations in her chest. She sprung towards him on sore legs then smacked the weapon aside, making eye contact with the psychic.

"Why won't you just surrender?" Xander asked in a whisper.

"Why Xander fight for Lizbeth?"

The force field shrunk as Rook's voice boomed again, "Agent Hyde, quit screwing around! You can kill faster!"

He could, and Coyo smiled when Xander's expression softened with the realization that she knew he was withholding power.

"Hyde, you sorry, hijo de puta! If you can't do this simple thing, how will ya burn their village?"

"Xander no need," Coyo whispered back. "K'ekchi help."

"Can that Jincho, that freak, that"—Xander swallowed—"alien, really help?"

"Yes."

"If you're lying, I won't just burn your village; I'll decimate it. Understand?"

Coyo nodded, although she had no idea what decimate meant. It sounded severe, though, and she respected that.

"Well," Xander added, "here's to treason."


	34. Strike (Part 3)

**A/N:** So. Close.

 _musicluvr_ \- I have so many spider webs in my universe, even the core cast doesn't realize. And they will continue growing...I hope Leo doesn't tell Nia as well.

 _DuckiePray_ \- Eh, my guys are pretty upfront with their enemies. LOL

 _Sciencegal_ \- Ay Larry?

* * *

 **CHAPTER 31:** **STRIKE (PART 3)**

Xander had to act faster than Agent Rook could call for backup. Otherwise, his whole plan would go to pot.

"Head for the exit!" he screamed at the Amazonians.

His powers targeted the containment field's weak point—a junction box where the platform's curved arm met the wall—and braced himself when sparks flew from it. Crackling, the electrified fence flickered out of existence, leaving the warriors free to drop to the ground below. How they managed without breaking limbs was beyond the Mexican's understanding, but he dared not question them with bigger issues at hand.

"Where _is_ the exit?" the turtle mutant asked.

Xander leaned over the platform edge then pointed towards the west tunnel. "Stay left at the first fork then—"

The training room shuddered. Its clear ceiling vibrated, drawing attention to the immense pressure it endured, and harsh claps echoed as the escape routes sealed shut.

"Mierda," Xander hissed.

"Now what?"

With another curse, the agent leaped over the platform ledge. A psychic cushion protected his legs, although he stumbled when he tried to walk before his feet met solid ground. "Leonardo, was it?" he questioned. The turtle mutant nodded, so Xander continued, "How much experience do you have with robots?"

"Robots? Why?"

Automated EPF defenses, that's why. Laser guns lowered from hidden places, melting spots around the group with hot, red blasts. They were the first wave. Soon, attack drones would invade, and cover would be near impossible to find.

"This whole place is underwater!" Leonardo cried. "Don't they care if it's compromised?"

"You think we'd build a room that can't withstand its own weapons?" Xander shot back.

"Fine." The turtle mutant leaped back to avoid a blast then, amazingly, repelled another with his sword. "If we don't drown, we'll end up like swiss cheese. Either way, we're dead unless there's another exit."

"The only emergency pod sector is beyond the west door."

"For this whole place?"

"The tower, yeah."

"Isn't one sector an oversight?"

"The designs weren't my idea! Take that up with Agent Mahoney!"

Xander and Leonardo shared a growl, but their glaring contest was broken by an onslaught of secondary blasts—first fire from the drones. The Mexican swiped his arms ahead, imagined a wave that hit half the machines like a Mac truck. They popped, sizzled, and then burst into sparks, metal bits scattering over the group's feet.

"You sure adapted to a power you tried to hide for so long," the turtle mutant muttered.

Xan met his gaze with no defense. The Mexican was just as surprised at by how natural it felt to smash objects with his mind as if an inner part of himself had been liberated. Fear, shame, and denial no longer shackled his conscience, and he anticipated unleashing all his frustration.

"Hyde!" Rook roared over the PA system. The anger in his tone seemed to shake the walls; they rumbled, though didn't crack. "You ungrateful pig! What are you doing?"

Xander caught the senior agent's figure in a high observation room then held up his middle finger.

"Xander!" Coyolxauhqui drew the Mexican's attention to where the Amazons cloistered behind overturned treadmills for cover.

They heaved shallow breathes, one holding their arm as they ducked blasts. Leonardo did what he could to counter-attack; however, drones kept swarming, and not all repelled blasts met their mark. Brows knit, Xander skid to a halt at their center then imagined a protective bubble around them. It was the second largest he had ever summoned, and pulsing pain in his temples reminded him of that.

"I—I can't keep this up much longer," he said. More blood ran from his nose, matched in heat only by his inflamed nerves. "I'll get you out, but beyond that door..."

"We trust Yaoqui?" a male Amazonian spat. His square featured wrinkled with disgust, and he hissed when he shifted beside his Chief. "You betray other Yaoqui. Can betray K'ekchi."

"Coyo trust Xander," the leader said.

"Why?"

"He's keeping us shielded, isn't he, Tlaloc?" Leonardo interjected.

"He kill my father," Tlaloc added.

"That was an accident," Xander said. He cringed with every dispelled blast. "The Disrupter, it...I'm sorry; I never meant to kill anyone."

Coyolxauhqui smiled up at the Mexican, which proved her belief. Tlaloc soured yet kept quiet, glancing over the treadmill towards the west exit.

"Ready?" Xander asked.

"What happen to Xander?" Coyo countered. Funny; she sounded concerned.

"The tower has reinforced under structures and contingency plans to keep it stable. But it was never meant to handle a _psychic_ attack. I fracture the ceiling?"

"The whole place floods," Leonardo finished.

"Not just it. This training room is the tower's top. I compromise it—"

"Everything goes under."

"Precisely."

"What happen to Xander?" Coyo repeated, more forceful.

Xander sucked in oil-scented air. It lingered in his bloody nose, brought him back to the hours he spent as a mechanic before joining the EPF. Back then, life had been so simple. Wake, work, return to Lizbeth, repeat. Then a positive test changed everything and drove the Mexican to an organization he failed to understand until it was too late.

"No matter what happens," he said, " honor your promise. Find Liz. Heal her. Tell her..." Xander trailed off with a chuckle. No; he wouldn't give any last words. He'd live. Or if anything, Liz would live, and there was nothing he could say that she didn't already know. "I'll drown this God-forsaken place," he added. "You just get the hell out. Comprende'?"

He turned his back without awaiting replies. The burn that thumped beside his eyes had a heartbeat, and if his force field persisted much longer, he'd pass out. Feet shuffled behind him in his haze, slow while the group crossed the battle-scorn room. They neared the west door, where Xander cursed when two android sentries blocked their path.

"There're the robots," Leonardo said. Xander had half a mind to dish out a snappy comment. It died in his throat, though, as the turtle mutant left the shield's sanctuary. "Keep them safe!"

' _Easier said than done,_ ' Xander thought with a snarl. His vision whitened and he shook his head to focus on how efficiently Leonardo chopped the androids into sections. What the hell were his swords made from anyway?

"And open!" Leonardo yelled. His blades cut through the door's control panel, but it only sparked. "Huh? This usually works."

"New safety feature," Xander explained. "Get behind me."

"Now, now, Mano, you don't think you can leave, do you?" Rook spoke through the PA system again, even though his body was nowhere in sight. "Please, don't make me do something I'll regret."

"I've given enough to you assholes!" Xander screamed. He raised a hand towards the door, willing it to bend. The metal creaked then stilled when the pulse in Xander's head whitened his vision completely.

"I _own_ you!" Rook continued. "Bishop owns me. I own you. You own nothing. Got it?"

Xander rolled his eyes as his vision returned. He concentrated on the door once more, and it creaked louder under Rook's taunts.

"I wonder who'd reach Lizbeth faster: that Jincho or our boys back in New York. Bishop detests wagering human lives, but if you're gonna act like this, well."

Focus on the door, Xan. That bastard's not worth—

"Maybe we should bring your girl here, Mano. A pretty, fresh face could boost morale. But if you're dead, who on earth will she turn to for comfort, I wonder?"

Xander spun. He pinpointed Rook's figure in another clear room, lower to the floor. Did he think distance could save him? That Xander's powers had such limits? Bullshit! The senior agent would never meet Lizbeth; the Mexican would make sure of it.

"Xander, what're you doing?"

Leonardo's question became white noise. Xander was fixated on a single thought: his love tainted by any other's touch. Snarling, he raised a hand towards the observation rooms then formed a fist. His fingers curled against an invisible resistance and like a crushed soda can, the rooms folded in on themselves. He roared, felt blood pour down his lower face, and droplets slung against his hot cheeks as grinding metal and shattered Lexan rained down. It crushed a trio of androids and several drones and landed with a foreboding crack. Xander looked up through sweat and vertigo. Dark lines ran through the blue sea, spider-webbing to dangerous lengths before water began to spray into the room.

"Idiot!" Leonardo cried. "Why'd you do that?"

Xander had no chance to answer; the ceiling caved and with it came billions of gallons of water in a long sweep. The Mexican spared a split second to give Coyolxauhqui a thankful smile before he used what power he could muster to ram the west door open. Xan ensured the Amazonians crossed it and once the last bit of blue left the room, he corked the hole with a sheet of half-folded metal.

' _Meirda,_ ' he thought. The frigid ocean contrasted his overheated body, made him shiver as it rapidly stole oxygen and tossed him against jagged debris.

"Hijo de puta!"

Dear, Lord. Was that Rook? Xander caught a platform ledge that the current slammed him against and watched the senior agent mount the fallen rooms. Red coated half his face, yet he was lucid, as evident by his pointed stare.

"You," he added.

"What?" Xan yelled. Though his voice shook from cold, it retained its edge, cut through roaring waters. "Game's over, Rook! Checkmate!"

"You think Bishop will accept defeat, Mano? Others will come!"

"Not before he loses his leads!" The Mexican chuckled, teeth chattering and grip slipping from the ledge. "Including me," he added softer.

Was it strange that the thought of death neither scared nor angered him? He considered how the water would wipe out more than half the station, how it would cripple the EPF's progress, and smiled. The Ke'kchi could disappear. With any luck, more efficiently than before and the war would end.

That was comforting—almost as comforting as recalling Liz's smile when his head dipped below the water line and his body numbed.


	35. Distance

**A/N:** I'm sorry.

 _DuckiePray_ \- Coyo likes to believe in the good of others.

 _Sciencegal_ \- Psychic powers call for some intensity.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 32:** **DISTANCE**

Several figures stumbled towards K'ekchi Village gates, and Huitzilopochtli squinted for a better view of their dark silhouettes. At first, he noticed their Aynnite spears, which reflected beams of morning light. Then the blood smeared over their Texohuitztli and their war-worn faces came into view. Ollin. Coalt and Huemac. Sacnite. Coaxoch. Tlaloc. All were accounted for, save…

"Huitzi," Izel's voice trembled, "Coyo, Leo."

Her fingers tightened around Huitzi's bicep—from thumb to forefinger—as the man's gaze found Tlaloc. The warrior struggled at the group's tail end, gimping, muddied, and stoic. When he glanced up the hill, Huitzi's stomach sank. Had the Tonalquizca lost? No; none of them would have returned if they had. Which meant they had won. But at what cost?

"No," he whispered.

' _It is not as you fear, Huitzi,_ ' a layered voice said.

It soothed the teacher with unfathomable assurance, although it was Tlaloc's smile that steadied his heart. Yards behind the warrior, rainforest plants divided to reveal Coyolxauhqui on the arm of Leonardo. She put little pressure on her right side, and Yolotli chirped from his perch atop the turtle-man's head. So, she was wounded yet alive? Thank Ometeotl.

Dirt flung across Huitzi's shin as the pressure on his arm almost forced him backward. Izel raced downhill, rolling once, until she threw herself at her best friend. Yo squawked when the girls hit the ground, and he tugged at the skinhead's poncho in an attempt to lift the burden off Coyo. The Chieftain only laughed, though, despite the obvious pain she endured.

Red-faced and crying, she hugged Izel, yelling towards the gates crowded by her people, "We did it! The war is over! We are free!"

A moment passed as the news sank in. Then, the whole village cheered.

* * *

Drumbeats pulsed through Izel's chest, matched in intensity only by the foot stomps of those dancing around Tlahcoyan's bonfire and her own excitement. She clapped her hands to the rhythm and swallowed another bite of the fruits she had been gorging on since sundown.

"Coyo," she whined, "you should look more alive. You won!"

Coyolxauhqui kept focused on the high flames, her expression dazed. "This is real," she whispered.

"I thought you understood that," Izel countered. She jabbed her friend in the side gently because she knew the Chieftain's ribs were still tender.

"I did before I napped. When I woke…"

"It felt like a dream?"

"We have been fighting for so long. Now…"

"We can hide again. It will take much work, especially since the Teo will move with us, but by the time those Yaoqui beasts reestablish themselves, we will be long gone."

"Another pilgrimage. New land. A new home."

"A new beginning. For us all." Izel glanced towards Leonardo and Huitzilopochtli near the ring of celebratory dancers. They stood beside several pots filled with Chicha, and Izel sniggered as Huitzi and Ollin goaded the turtle-creature into dunking his cup into the alcohol.

"Chief! Chief!" A boy slid to a halt before Coyo and Izel, his classmates at his heels.

"Icnoyotl," Izel said. "Trouble with Yo again?"

"Huh?" Icnoyotl scrunched his sweaty face then shook his head. "I have not seen Yo tonight."

"He is roosting," Coyo added. Oh; guess that would explain why Izel had no competition when it came to her fruit platter.

"Huemac and Coalt were telling the story," Icnoyotl continued. He panted, likely winded from his dash through Tlahcoyan. "Is it true?"

"Which part?" asked Coyo.

Icnoyotl's heavy-set friend stepped forward, his tone wonder-filled, "Did a Yaoqui really help? Fight for you?"

"You made him, right?" a doe-eyed girl interjected.

The Chieftain smiled at the children. "He did help," she said. "But I did not make him."

"How?" the same girl asked. "He was your enemy."

"We were his people's enemy. Not his. He fell into an unwanted role and, with Zaddir's help, I convinced him he could defy that role."

"Defy?" Icnoyotl scrunched his face again. "Like, go against it?"

"That is not what the Elders teach," the doe-eyed girl said.

"No, it is what Coyo has spent seasons trying to teach _them_ ," Izel countered. Call her defensive; she could not help squaring her shoulders and sending a sidelong look at the cluster of old folks who talked amongst themselves.

"The Elders apologized," continued Coyo, "even though their way is not my own. Kids"—the Chieftain reached for Icnoyotl's hand—"I also fell into a role I did not want. I fought it for the longest time, and when I embraced it, I did so on my terms. That choice is one I hope to give your generation."

"So we can be what we want?" the heavy-set friend questioned. "I will not be forced into the Yaocatl just because I am a boy?"

"He can work with the Calpocatl," the girl said. "I could take his place instead? Forge weapons?"

Coyo sent her a wide grin. "If you work hard through the labor, I do not see why not. Although, without a war, the Yaocatl will be far less busy."

The girl laughed. "That will give me time to make all new kinds of weapons for hunting!"

"I look forward to that. To all of you forging your own path."

"It is too late for me to switch as well?" added Izel. She leaned into Coyo, head resting on the Chieftain's shoulders.

"What else would you do?" Coyo countered. "You are too lazy to forge metal, have no patience to teach, and will not listen to Nenetl long enough to learn medicine."

"Ouch. Thought we were friends."

"We are. And as your friend, I suggest you continue muddling through your art projects."

"Can you at least talk with the Teo about my candidacy for Texohuitztli painting? War or no, we are still bound to protect them, and I have studied the symbols thorough—"

"Izel, can I borrow you?" Izel lifted her head towards where Leonardo offered a three-fingered hand and quirked an eyebrow. "Please?" he added.

Coyolxauhqui looked curious, but given how the children clamored for more questions, she would be occupied for a while. Izel sent her friend a smirk before taking the turtle-creature's offer then followed him to an area where shadows from the dancers loomed like giants between Tlahcoyan's outermost pillars. Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc waited there. Zaddir and Nenetle as well.

"Suspicious," the skinhead said, eyeing Leonardo.

"This about what we spoke of before, right, Cuamahui?" Huitzi asked.

"Yes," answered Leo. He smiled, although it seemed strained. "You are here because, well, you are the closest friends I have in this village."

"Though not all of them," Izel countered. "What about Coyo?"

"There is a reason she is excluded," Tlaloc said.

Leo's strained smile fell. There could be only one reason for such pain.

"You are leaving," Izel whispered.

Her voice almost drowned under the drumbeats, and Leo shifted with a sigh, saying, "I told Huitzi that it might be time. It is. Really, you guys have given me so much. A push, a refuge"—Leo faced Nenetl and Huitzi then Izel and Tlaloc—"a chance to be me, a reason to defend others again. And"—his attention fell on Zaddir—"a way to heal. I can never repay you. Not fully. But I did what I could."

"Now you are strong enough to walk home," Huitzi concluded.

"Fly, technically," the turtle-creature said.

His jab at humor was weak, though; even Tlaloc sounded depressed. "Coyo cannot hear this news alongside Zaddir."

"Their Mozallo would cause trouble," Nenetl said with a nod.

' _The concern is appreciated, Leonardo._ ' Zaddir's voice rung with the familiar drawl of Izel's mother and her father's matter-of-fact tone. ' _However, are we not a stepping stone for what you dread most?_ '

Leo grimaced, the folds of his green face lightened by flicking lights. "I have tried so many times to explain," he said. "When I tell her—"

"It will take courage" Huitzi interjected. "And the sorrow will be great. For both of you. We are not blind; we have seen how close you two have become even without…"

"Their bond _is_ unique." Nenetl sent the teacher and Zaddir a crooked smile. Did that mean she knew of Leo and Coyo's alien connection? "Saying goodbye is never easy. Is it necessary?"

Leo nodded.

"Otherwise, he would not have gathered us," Tlaloc added.

"I have no need to say bye to the whole village," Leo continued. "I thank them through you."

"And Coyo will be the last you bid farewell," Izel said.

"Honestly?" The turtle-creature grinned sadly. "It would be easier if I just snuck away. Boarded my plane without a word. But that would be unfair. I, uh, plan to tell her. Tonight. Outside the village, away from everyone, especially Zaddir."

Leo kept smiling. Why? So his resolve would keep? Or to alleviate the situation's grim reality? It did no good either way; the turtle-creature choked on a laugh and Izel tingled at the thought of her best friend's pain.

"You will crush her," Izel managed through trembling lips.

"Forgive me," Leo whispered. His cursed smile remained. "I must go home. To my brothers and sisters. My father. You understand."

"Quema. It still hurts, though."

"There will be distance between us," said Huitzi, shaky, "that does not mean your place here will ever be replaced or forsaken."

' _Should you ever need us, reach out through Mozallo,_ ' Zaddir added.

"You and your kin will always be welcome," Nenetl said.

Tlaloc snorted yet half-grinned as everyone faced him. "You have fought as fiercely as any other Tonalquizca. If your brothers share as much honor, I would gladly fight alongside them, Ayotl. Under my command, of course."

"Of course," Leo said, smile strengthening. "Thank you. All of you. For everything. And please, please be there for Coyo when I—I cannot. She…" She meant to world to him. How could he not admit that? Everyone knew; he must have realized. Yet he would leave anyway? "I will be gone by morning," he continued. "Izel."

Izel nodded, already aware of what would come. But what could prepare her for the tears Coyo would spill? She had a feeling her best friend would sob harder than ever before, and nothing could make that easier to bare—not a warning, not a chance to rehearse her consoling lines, and not Leonardo's smile. All that did was remind the skinhead of the happiness Coyo wished to prologue with him, and how his departure would leave her unfulfilled and hollow.

' _He is trusting me to comfort her,_ ' Izel thought. She held still as Leo hugged her. ' _But how? Without him, she will have no strength left._ '

That realization scared Izel more than any Yaoqui ever could.

* * *

Coyolxauhqui felt something was wrong. Not so much with the universe or K'ekchi or Teo, as with somewhere deep inside her. It gnawed at her—an untouchable ache at her soul's center—and she glowered at the night sky when it worsened.

' _Stupid pool,_ ' she thought, ' _you were supposed to make me feel better._ ' The woman sighed, arms swaying in the warm waters that submerged her body.

"There you are, Coyo. I've been looking for you."

Coyo hardly heard Leonardo, but she sensed his nearness and sighed again.

"The kids said you left suddenly," the turtle-man added. "You alright? Why are you in Ilnahio ?"

In her vision's corner, Coyo could make out wooden grave markers. Leo weaved through them, his pace slowing as he neared the pool's grassy bank. Made sense; he had never seen the Cuaii Pool at night, and it was beautiful. Its clear waters sparkled as if in the sunlight, not moonlight, its sides tinted an ethereal blue by crystal-like clusters.

Coyo anchored herself along the sandy bottom then looked up at the turtle-man. "Tlen?" she asked.

"How are these things glowing?" Leo countered. "I feel like I know, but…"

The woman ran her toes against the smooth crystals. "They Cuaii. From Languu. Many things from Languu glow."

"I noticed."

"Teo place them here many seasons ago. Sometimes, ease grief, make K'ekchi calm."

"Like incense or a salve?"

"Almost."

"Is this anything like the water your mother drank? The kind that healed her? Before it was poisoned, I mean."

"Amo." Coyo trod water to keep upright and watched Leo dip a hand into the pool. "The river cycled with Languu plants," she continued. "No drink this water. Make next day terrible."

"How come you never showed me this befo—holy shit!"

Coyo jerked backward with a gasp. "What? What?" she asked. "Great Ometeotl."

The woman's eyes widened. Slender lights ran through Leonardo's hand to his shoulder. They lightened his skin to a pale-leaf color and made him shiver when the gash across his palm healed.

"Well," Leo patted where the wound had once been, "that's interesting."

"How?" Coyo whispered.

"Dunno. What effects does Cuaii have on Languu? They're a, uh," the turtle-man furrowed his eye ridges, "tool, right? Or amplifier. To keep them balanced. That's the sense I get."

"Yes, but—"

"Guess Recro-12 tricks them into thinking I'm Languu. Wish we had known that when I first came here; I would've been walking in no time." Leo smiled and laughed, although his joy felt forced. Was that because he shared the same wrongness that haunted Coyo?

"What is wrong?" she asked, leaving the pool. Outside, she felt cold and weighted, and she wrung her long breechcloth with a frown. "War is won. People are free. Is time for celebration. Yet there is something inside Coyo, something painful. It is…uncomfortable."

"Tell me about it," Leo said.

"Does Leo know it?"

"I…" The turtle-man inhaled then stepped back.

Thunders from distant drums and storms made his gaze seem solemn, and the nightlife calls that echoed throughout the rainforest faded under Coyo's quickening heart. No; this could not be what she feared. Maybe there was another issue: like concern for her tribe's move or how the Elders would adjust to her change in job assignments and priorities. Nothing more.

"Coyo," Leonardo started. The woman shook her head. "Coyo, please. Listen. This is hard for me, too."

He knew the wrong feeling, why Coyolxauhqui left the village, her sense of standing on a crumbling cliff—all of it. She prayed for Ometeotl to freeze the moment. Still, it continued as if it were the only thing happening in the universe.

"It—it is not time," whispered Coyo. "It cannot be."

"A year in your village passes by fast, doesn't it?"

"Leo could spend more seasons. Help move. Build. Sing 'Sakura, Sakura' at next Xochicuicatl."

Leo's grin returned. "I would love that. You know I would. But I think you realized a while ago that this time was coming."

She had yet considered the idea nonsense. Why would he want to leave?

"Believe me, it's not that I _want_ to leave," Leo said. "I"—the mutant clicked his tongue—"Damn, I don't even know where to start. Being here has been life-changing. To be part of something so passionate, and cultured, and unified has brought me peace. To see parallels of your people and my family? That's been comforting. But to have people treat me as anything other than their 'fearless leader'? That's been a relief. I haven't been 'just Leonardo' for years. Long enough to forget what it's like for someone to take care of me for once. I have _you_ to thank for that."

"N—no." Coyo's voice trembled, more so when the turtle-man brushed her shoulder with calloused fingertips. "Leo taught Coyo. Gave her courage. Friendship. Music. Helped K'ekchi win war. _He_ is to thank."

"Guess we learned a little something from each other, huh? And now?"

Now it was time to part. Although Coyo could not bring herself to admit that out loud.

"I don't want to go," Leo continued. "I have to. My clan's in New York. That's where I belong

"Leo have clan in village, too."

The Chieftain stepped so close she could see the Cuaii's blue lights reflecting in Leonardo's eyes. She gripped his forearms with hands moist from the pool and her own sweat then hissed. The wrong pain paralyzed her, overwhelming her with alien desires: want to hold her, to caress her skin, kiss her lips, hear her laugh, see her smile, to hang on and watch her grow old. Were these Leonardo's desires? Were they the reason he distanced himself as if Coyo were a flame?

"I can't," he whispered, fists clenched. "I can't."

"Leo." Coyo drew a shuddering breath. "Leo, you can—"

"I'm sorry." The turtle-man stared with a cold expression that the woman had not seen in a long time. "When my father sent me here, he told me to find myself again. I did. Because of you. My whole family will know that."

"Please, Leo no go." Coyo reached for Leo's wrist, which he pulled away.

"We're leaders, Coyo," he said. "That is our role. Anything else is—"

"Leo, stay. With tribe. With _Coyo_!"

"I abandoned my clan once. I can't do it again."

"Please, Leo. Please." Coyo knew it was selfish and childish to plead, yet she could not imagine a future without Leonardo. Tears burned her cheeks, and she tried to hug the turtle-man, who avoided her.

"Don't say anything that will make this harder," he said hoarsely.

"Just say goodbye? So easy?"

"It's not easy. I know. But"—Leo's voice cracked—"it _is_ goodbye."

No. No. No! Ometeotl, reverse time. Let Coyo relive those days at Huelihca, sing Leo's song one last time, share another meal. Give her more chances to admit her buried feelings or at least embrace him. Please, ease the pain. It swelled from her chest to her throat and left her speechless as Leonardo bowed at the waist.

"You're a strong leader," he said, emotionless. "Compassionate. Eager. Open-minded. Your people will flourish under you, and they'll be happy. And I'm _honored_ to have met you. Totazkeh, Coyolxauhqui. Be well. Live. Be the kind of wife and mother you have always wanted."

He stood upright and smiled. Then, he left. Left like it was an average night, as if the woman behind would not miss him. How? Was his body not as heavy as hers? Could he breathe? Did he understand what goodbye meant or that no man in her village could outmatch him? Did he not know she wanted him, needed him? If he did, did he not care?

Coyolxauhqui gaped at the empty spot the turtle-man left in Ilnahio. It felt surreal like he was invisible or would return. But he did not. She was left alone in the Wet Season's storm—soaked, hot, and lost as she sunk to the muddy ground.


	36. Burn

**A/N:** Not much longer now...

* * *

 **CHAPTER 33:** **BURN**

Izel wiped a damp cloth across her best friend's forehead. Coyolxauhqui felt hot to the touch, although the skinhead questioned whether that was from the strain of sobbing overnight or a budding fever. Or both.

"Teueltiuh," Izel said. "Please, say something."

Coyo buried her face in her arms, curling up further on her straw mat.

"We are moving the Tepiani today," continued Izel. She began rubbing Coyo's upper back and almost shuddered at how moist it felt. "Your people could use encouragement. Being without Xelihuiyan, no matter how temporary, is—" She sighed. "Will you not help?"

"Coyo is selfish," Coyo muttered.

"Uh," Izel smacked her lips together, "sometimes. Yes."

"I wanted him to stay." The Chieftain's arms obstructed her voice yet her words were clear. "I have seen his tribe. Know how close they are, how much they need him, how much he loves them and New York. _Felt_ it. And I _wanted_ him to stay."

"Well," Izel smiled, despite Coyo's whimpers, "Love is selfish."

"Love is pain, Teicu. Loving my parents hurt. Loving Huitzi hurts. Loving Leo…" Curled inwards, shoulders shaking and breath unsteady, Coyo hissed. "This is real. He—he left?"

Izel's smile fell. "Yes."

"I will never see him again."

"Not likely."

"And Mozallo will always feel this way. Like I am partial? Incomplete?"

Izel had no more answers; her throat swelled until tears threatened to spill. But she would not cry. The skinhead kept stoic while pulling her best friend close, and they rocked along the mat as Izel soothed Coyo's shakes by running several fingers through her wild hair. Soon, her sniffles stopped—not through comfort but through alarm. The ground shook. It started as a tremor—a subtle vibration in the bones—that increased until the rocks around the fire pit rattled and the hut swayed.

"An earthquake?" Izel questioned. She stumbled up, lifting Coyo along the way, and fought for balance when Tlaloc busted through the hut's curtain doorway. He looked ill, hair matted against his face, and panted.

"Wh—what is wrong?" Coyo asked hoarsely.

Tlaloc gulped.

"This is no earthquake, is it?" added Izel.

"They were not destroyed," Tlaloc said. A high-pitch pop sounded in the distance then screaming. "Xelihuiyan was down when they pushed through. They wield new weapons. Something horrible. The Teo. They are capturing the Teo. Burning us."

"No. You cannot mean—"

The man sent the Chieftain a sour look, answering, "The Yaoqui. They are here."

* * *

Leonardo waited, hidden in shadows, for the next delivery truck charted for the airport. A long car ride and few plane hops later, he'd be home—back with honking traffic, smoggy air, and pizza. And all of his own free will. He should be happy. Or relieved, at least. Yet the knot inside his heart would not let him relax.

It worsened whenever he remembered Coyolxauhqui's face. The hurt in her eyes, the dismay that contorted her expression, still sickened him. Back then, he could not trust himself to touch her. Had he succumbed, he never would've left. He would've held her, kissed her, admitted every thought and desire he had for her. Never before had he wanted someone so badly. He had found it scary and turned his voice cold to avoid it.

' _I'll live with this ache forever, won't I?_ ' he asked himself. Figures. ' _I can't even send letters. Not unless Huitzi makes connections with other traders._ '

Which was doubtful, especially since the K'ekchi planned to move Lord knows where…

"Yo, Enrique, you forgot a crate!" Some man dressed in weathered jeans and a tank top kneeled beside a wooden box not far from Leonardo. The mutant leaned further into the shadows, careful not to clank his katanas or carapace against the containers that surrounded him in a large cave. The man spoke in English, not the Spanish dialect used amongst the locals that Leo only half understood. "Another from the K'ekchi? That American woman has how many now?"

The man glanced up at Enrique, who spoke with a thicker accent, "Three. How heavy is that one, Wilfredo?"

Wilfredo strained to lift the crate's corner, sweat dripping from below the bandana tied across his forehead. "Shit. The hell do these people make?"

"More statues, probably. I'll get the lift."

"I parked it by the—hey, hey!" Wilfredo stood to beat Enrique's bicep.

"What?" Enrique snapped.

"Is that fog or smoke?"

"Where?"

"There!" Wilfredo pointed towards a mountain. Thick clouds plumed sideways from its crest and coated the ridge with grey shades. "Is that fire?"

Enrique sidestepped, giving Leo a better view as he scoffed. "Si. Fucking gringos. Ignoring laws, trespassing on government-sanctioned land. I hope whatever natives live up there make examples of those American-born-sons-of—"

"If the natives are okay." Wilfredo dropped his arm with a sigh.

"These are some of the last aboriginal tribes in the Amazon," countered Enrique. "Who would destroy that?"

Wilfredo shook his head, pulled out his cell phone. Leonardo tuned out the call, though. He was too focused on the increasing orange-red blaze below the rolling smoke and the realization that it focused around the upper valley where K'ekchi Village sat.

* * *

Everything burned: the air, the village, Coyolxauhqui's hope. The chief stood in the streets brightened with fire, its heat tightening her skin like caked mud. She could hardly hear her peoples' wails or the roar from the inferno, but all that must have been a trick played on her by her ringing ears.

None of this could be real. The flames that towered towards the clouds were an illusion. The bodies scattered throughout dilapidated huts were dolls. The Yaoqui that stormed the gates were ghosts. It was all a waking nightmare. Right?

Something touched Coyolxauhqui: a hand. The woman looked down at Icnoyotl, watched tears fall from his red face. He tried to speak yet croaked, clearing Coyo's conscience with his sobs and tight hold. This was real. The Yaoqui were set on genocide, and they targeted her people.

"My—my sister," Icnoyotl said.

"Forgive me," Coyo told him. She squeezed his shoulder then glanced around. "You must find somewhere to hide."

Like where? If flames did not consume the K'ekchi, the armed villains outside their walls would. They were surrounded and the longer they took to find an escape, the closer their enemies came to the village's heart.

' _They want us centralized, herded like pitzol,_ ' Coyo thought. ' _Bastards._ '

"Oh, Chief!" A gruff, sing-song voice cut through the chaotic noises. It came from everywhere, disembodied and in English, and the woman pulled Icnoyotl closer with a frown. "Please, report to the huge-ass hut pronto. Otherwise, I'll start shooting random people." A laugh followed then something like a screech and a man's cry. "Sorry, I mean _and_ I'll start shooting random people until you do. Ya got, uh, I dunno, however long it takes me to run out of bodies. One for each ten seconds ya ain't here. Better get movin'; your tribe ain't as big as it was an hour ago."

"Tlacatetza!" Coyolxauhqui screamed. Whether or not Agent Rook heard mattered little; her focus lingered on those trapped inside Tlahcoyan and if Izel and Huitzi were among them. "Come," she told Icnoyotl.

She pulled the boy along as she raced through the ashy streets. He said nothing of his discomfort or the reason why. Guess he understood that no matter where he ran, he would face danger. Good. The K'ekchi continued until the fire's heat decreased and its smoke thinned into a shower of cinders. Several Yaoqui stood outside Tlahcoyan with what Leo had called 'plasma guns.' They grinned, parting to allow the duo safe passage.

"Five down," one Yaoqui said. "How many you got left to spare?"

Coyo snarled yet had no time to waste. She weaved through the massive pillars then stopped short at the hut's center with a gasp. Her poor villagers crowded together, whimpering while their stronger members formed a protective ring from the monsters around them. The ring, however, was broken by five unmoving bodies with blackened wounds in their chests.

' _Ollin,_ ' Coyo thought. ' _Sacnite?_ '

They were dead. As were two Elders and a young boy. Tlaloc slumped, out cold, beside Huitzi and Izel, which left Coalt and Huemac as the last Tonalquizca to stand guard. And the young men trembled.

"Sixty," Agent Rook said, aiming his gun at Coalt.

"Stop!" Coyo yelled. She released Icnoyotl to kick Rook's gun. The plasma shot fired into the red-gray sky, and she placed herself between the Yaoqui leader and what remained of her tribe. "Enough!"

"Madame Chief, about time," Rook said. "I was worried you wouldn't show. Brought another straggler, I see. Gracias. It's been a bitch gathering everyone, ya know?" The silver-haired tlacatetza laughed when Coyo growled. "Did you know only, like, three of you guys speak English?" he continued. "Thank God for translators. Your Spanish is weird."

"Coyo here," Coyo said. "Release K'ekchi."

"Que? We never made that deal. Did we?" Rook sent his underlings an amused look, and they chuckled while he tapped his gun on his large shoulders. "Don't think so."

"Why bring us together?"

"Thought you liked being together. United in your cause and all that."

Coyo stepped forward. "You murder us!"

"Si. Si. But can you blame me? I mean, you _did_ convince Hyde to drown us in our own fucking facility."

"Psychic do poor job," Izel interjected.

She made a point. Coyo had hard the groaning metal as water flooded the underground base. She remembered the pressure of air being sucked in behind her and the push of Xander's psychic powers as he ushered the Tonalquizca out an emergency exit. How had the tlacatetza survived that?

Rook grinned, spreading apart a healing gash across his lower cheek. "I'm a tough son-of-a-bitch. Gotta say, I never expected Hyde to listen. I didn't. And I'm pissed at the damage he caused. That said"—his grin widened—"I'll let bygones be bygones. If you accept my offer."

"Offer?" Coyo asked.

"It's a great deal."

"For Yaoqui."

"Come on. Have you even brought it up with the others? What do you owe those Jinchos, anyway? You give and give for what? The 'honor' of protecting them?"

"Yaoqui never understand," Izel spat.

Loose soil shifted behind Coyo, but before the skinhead stood, Rook rested his gun at his hip. "It's your only chance," he said. "We've already rounded up the Jinchos, and we can't let you go. You know too much. But if you worked for us? That knowledge could be your saving grace."

"You mean trade guardianship for slavery?"

"Izel," Coyo warned. She glanced over her shoulder then shook her head.

"We no traitors," the skinhead added.

"What if we refuse?" Huitzi asked. "Will you destroy us?"

"Not quite. See?" Rook began pacing, his gun never once aimed anywhere except Coyo's gut. "I believe in poetic justice. I know, I know; you look at me and think 'really?' But it's true. You'll be slaves either way. Just not before you see this big-haired _mariconsita_ ripped apart by the same tool she used against me."

Tool? As in Xander? Had he survived as well?

"Funny how he's to blame as much he's to thank," Rook continued. "His survival instincts saved his sorry ass whether he wanted them to or not. Agent Vance and I were lucky enough to be within range."

"Ocean destroy awful place," Coyo said. "You—"

"Floated up. I'm not without battle scars, either. Look at my pretty face."

The woman glowered when she did. "Why Xander help Yaoqui again?"

"Let's just say he's not all there anymore." Rook tapped the side of his head with a crooked grin then chuckled. "Puñeta, listen to me ramble. You must think I'm such a cliché, up here damn-near monologing."

Coyo had no idea what the Yaoqui meant by that; mostly because she failed to understand half the terms he used.

"Back to my point, Chief. In a few hours, your home will be ash. Those Jinchos will be caught. And your people can either join us or donate themselves to our Science Division. Simple as that."

Slowly, Coyo's head shook.

"Seriously? After all this?" The tlacatetza scoffed yet smiled, aged skin crinkling. "It must've been quite the shock, huh? Seeing us march towards the village with tanks and guns. You thought you wiped us out, but never considered I had already asked for backup weeks ago."

A mistake on Coyo's part, one she regretted.

"I can only imagine how much that sucks. In a blink"—Rook snapped his fingers—"hope dies. Your Barrier falls, your world burns, and you would deny your people a chance to live?"

"Why care?"

" _Because_ your knowledge is more valuable than your corpses! Except for maybe…Huh. Where is that shelled freak?"

A lump formed in Coyolxauhqui's throat as Rook spoke with an underling beside him. "Le—Leo gone," she said.

"Gone? As in left?"

The beast's smile returned and Coyo raised her chin, despite her nausea and weak legs. It was the one comfort she had now, to realize whatever end the K'ekchi faced, Leonardo would share no part in it. He was safe. She could join Ometeotl's side in peace knowing that.

"Rook, Sir, look who we found trying to sneak in," a female said. Two sour-faced brunettes pushed a large body towards their leader and the paler of the two kept a foot on his humped back. She must've been stronger than her slim figure suggested because otherwise, Leonardo could've escaped.

"L—Leo?" Coyo whispered. "Wh—how? Why?"

The turtle-man glanced up from the ground. Fine dirt dusted his body and he panted, yet he managed a smile that gripped the woman's heart.

"You came back," she added.

"I saw the smoke," he said. "Sorry. Barrett has an unfair advantage."

The pale brunette pushed her leg down harder, causing Leo to hiss.

"Stop!" Coyo screamed.

"Guess your boy wasn't as far gone as you thought," Rook said. "Good job, ladies. This day keeps getting better and better."

"Better?" Coyo choked on her words. "You think day good? With torture? Murder? Fire? Fear?"

"We won, so yeah."

"You have not won."

"Please, if you see a disadvantage, point it out. Seems to me the only card you had left to play was this tortuga. No one else can help, can they?"

No. The Tonalquizca were almost non-existent. Xelihuiyan was broken. Xander hunted the Teo. And the Pesto Tribe had not answered her letters.

"Thought so," Rook added. "If this is how you wanna play, so be it. I have loopholes in Bishop's orders I want exploited. Starting with _him_."

"No touch Leo," Coyo spat. She lifted her foot to step forward, but someone grabbed her ankle from behind. Izel or Huitzi, perhaps.

"Oh, I won't be touching him, Chief." Rook redirected his gun towards Leonardo's skull, and Coyo's stomach sank.

With a snarl, she back-kicked then felt her heel split someone's lip. Their cry drew Rook's attention enough that the Chieftain could grasp his weapon. She pushed it towards his chest to unbalance him but he countered with more power than expected. She landed on her back and shielded Leo with her body as she regained her breath.

"I wanted Xander to do this," Rook told her. "Guess I'll settle."

Coyo stood firm, no matter how many times Leo commanded her to move. She stared at the gun, stoic, as Rook narrowed his eyes.

"Awk! Amo cualli! Amo cualli!"

A colorful blur dove between the Chief and Yaoqui, and Coyo grew cold. She watched Rook snarl as Yolotli scraped his wounded face with thick talons.

"Yo, no!" she cried. "Please, you—"

"Maricónsito!" Rook swiped an arm at the cochotl.

His fist met Yo's breast yet Yo continued his assault, flapping, squawking, and maiming. Coyo reached towards her friend to stop him before Rook regained control. Strong arms slipped under hers, though. They pinned her against someone bitter-smelling and her legs flailed for leverage.

"Yo, fly!" she screamed in Nahautl. "Please! He will—"

"Cállate, puta!" Rook—now bloodied and unamused—pointed his gun at Coyo.

He fired a shot that the woman never felt. She saw it: saw it burn through Yolotli's talons and feathers with white-hot heat and a crackling noise. The cochotl screeched as he hit the ground then stopped moving altogether. Coyo froze, willing Yo to flinch or make some noise. He did not.

"No, no, no, no," she whispered.

"What annoyances," Rook said. "Thought we got rid of them years ago."

"Yo? Yo, please."

"That thing belongs to you?" The Yaoqui spit blood onto Yo, turning Coyo's tears of shock into tears of rage. He laughed when she spouted curses and stepped closer while her captor tightened their hold. "Now, I don't speak native, but I get the feeling you're a little hostile."

"I will kill you!" Coyo snarled. She meant it and it scared her. "I will _kill_ you!"

"Not today, Chief." Rook glared through the blood smeared over his face as he shot the woman across both ankles.

She hissed as the skin bubbled, gasped at the sting around the wounds that swelled like hives.

The tlacatetza chuckled. "Good luck walking on those anytime soon," he said. Then he pushed his gun right against Leonardo's skull.


	37. Tribe (Part 1)

**A/N:** Psych! Here's the end of the _real_ climax. ;D

* * *

 **CHAPTER 34:** **TRIBE (PART 1)**

Agent Rook's plasma rifle seared Leonardo's temple, and the mutant growled. Did the agent expect his captive to plead? To falter or convince Coyolxauhqui to accept the deal? All to save Leo's life? Not a chance.

Rook's bloody smirk grew. "Bishop wants you alive," he said. "He mentioned no _other_ requirements."

Leo's glare spoke for him: better ensure there was no chance he'd fight back because the Jonin had several punches reserved for what the bastard did to Yolotli and Coyo.

"Ooh, scary," Rook added.

"Do not hurt him!"

"Dios mio." The gray-haired man craned his head towards Coyo with a scoff. "Remember what happened last time you spoke too much?"

The tribeswoman froze in Agent Vance's hold, her expression only half as pained as what Leo sensed through Mozallo. She looked at Yo's limp body then her nausea worsened. The mutant bit down bile as Coyo's jaw trembled and tested his limbs. They were still numb from the tranq dart Vance had shot him with, and Agent Barrett kept him pinned with inhuman strength.

' _I need an upper hand,_ ' he thought. ' _I could force myself up, but the guns need_ _neutralized_ _first._ '

They were a liability. The Jonin had seen too many tragedies from misfires, and the K'ekchi had suffered enough losses. But what could—

"Puneta!" Rook hissed when he stumbled backward.

Leonardo lifted his head to see why, but a whining pop and bright light left him half-deafened and flinching. He turned aside, watching EPF soldiers all around drop their exploding weapons.

Were those shuriken lodged in the guns' neon-colored barrels?

"Jeez, you guys really are international, ain't cha?"

Was that Mikey? Leo struggled for a glimpse of the jokester, only for Agent Barrett to push down harder.

"Oi, stronzo, hands off my brother!"

Leo didn't recognize who spoke next, let alone understand why she called him 'brother.' The pressure on his carapace lifted after he heard a thud and when he sat up, he was greeted by a twig-framed blonde in a white catsuit decorated with black plates.

"Come va?" she asked. What did that even mean?

"Oi, ya just gonna sit there, Fearless, or are ya gonna help?"

"Raph?"

"You're wasting our surprise!"

"Donny?"

The Jonin's chest swelled with hope and relief. At his sides, his brothers fought to immobilize the EPF soldiers before they took any hostages. And they succeeded. For a moment, it felt surreal. Were they there? How had they found him? And who the hell was the blonde?

"Figo!" the blonde screamed. Or maybe that was her usual tone; she seemed casual. "Does he normally look this spaced out?"

"Naw, Hoshi!" Michelangelo replied. He back-flipped over a soldier then swept the human's legs before knocking him out cold with his nunchucks. "Must be the jungle heat!"

"It's a rainforest, Mike," Donatello interjected, bō staff whirling, "not a jungle. How many times must I tell you?"

The youngest Hamato shrugged. "It's green, it's hot, and there're vines and bugs everywhere. Tomato, toe-mah-toe."

"There're numerous differences between a rainforest and jungle!"

"Save the science lesson for later, Brainiac!" Raphael huffed, and Leo dodged sideways when the hothead tossed a body beside him.

"Raph," Leo said. The red-masked Chūnin kneeled, rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. There was something different in his amber eyes, a shift that made him seem more mature than when the Jonin had left over a year ago. "You came."

"We'll talk about that later. These natives friends 'a yers?"

"Quema. Uh, y—yes."

"Thought so. Got these back. Figured ya could use 'em."

Leo accepted his Aynnite katanas with a relieved sigh.

"They feel lighter," Raph continued.

"Them and me both."

"That mean ya ready ta fight?"

The blonde clicked her tongue as the Jonin nodded. "You two always talk like a bunch of ragazzine?"

"Who _are_ you?" Leo asked her.

The blonde scrunched her upturned nose then smirked. "Ciao," she said, juggling a star staff from her left to right hand. "Name's Sophia Moretti. I'm Figo's girl."

Leo stared at her offered hand. "Figo?"

"She means Mike," Raph explained.

Hold it. Mikey got a girlfriend?

"Lots of merda has happened," Sophia added while taking back her hand. "I'm just the tip of the iceberg."

Raph stood, saying, "Again, we'll fill ya in later. For now—"

"Coyo!" Leo jumped up then scanned the chaos around him. He spotted the Chieftain curled near where Donny directed K'ekchi outside Tlahcoyan's center. Her feet bent inwards, dirtied and bubbled, and she cradled something bright blue as Izel and Huitzi stroked her shoulders. "Coyo!"

"Cazzo, go to her already," Sophia said. She shoved the Jonin's shoulder with a force that tipped him sideways then giggled. "Scusa. I forget the SHELL's power."

Leo sent Raph a look then shook his head, saying, "Find Rook."

"Ya mean that old guy who almost bested ya?"

"Funny. You know the reason I couldn't move."

"Hence the shuriken barrage. Where'd he go anyway?"

"Probably to get Xander."

"Who?"

"Someone we don't wanna fight. Trust me."

"Please." The hothead snorted. "How bad can he be?"

Leo bit back his answer; odds were high the other Hamatos would see for themselves, and the Jonin was determined for the tribe to reach safety before then. "Huitzi, Izel, can Coyo move?" he yelled across the battlefield. He let Sophia and Raph down the soldiers who tried to stop him then kneeled before Coyo.

The tribeswoman met his gaze. "He lives," she whispered.

"Really?" Leo ran a finger along the Macaw's chest. The poor thing laid rigid, round eyes glazed and right talon contorted from the plasma blast. A line of singed feathers blackened the yellow vanes from his right leg to his left wing, but his chest expanded with shallow breathes. "You were brave, Yo," Leo said in Nahuatl.

"Stupid," Coyo corrected. She shook, hugging the McCaw.

"He could turn his back on you as much as I could."

"Hey, Leo, Leo, Leo, Leo!" Mike screamed from behind. "I bet I can take on more goons than you!"

"This isn't a game!" Leo shot back. Yet he smiled, standing. "Get to safety," he told the K'ekchi.

"Leo—"

"You're injured, Coyo. Huitzi is sick. Izel doesn't fight. Best you can do is be with your people."

"Tlaloc is unconscious. Huemec and Coatl are too frightened. Coaxoch is missing. And the others are dead. I have no warriors to offer."

Leo's smile morphed into a smirk. "My clan thrives against those odds."

"And they may not be as alone as you fear, Teicu." Huitzi shook his sister's shoulder then pointed inside Tlahcoyan.

Dark-skinned natives marked with red tattoos descended from the straw roofs with battle cries. Their spears were crude compared to Ayannite, yet they cut just as fiercely through Yaoqui necks and never faltered.

"Pesto Warriors," Izel whispered.

"See?" Leo asked. "We aren't alone. Now go."

With one hand, the mutant helped Izel balance her best friend then transferred Yo into Huitzi's waiting arm. The three tribesmen spared a look before leaving, and Leo admitted how horrible it felt to let the gimping group leave without him.

 _'It's up to us now, no matter what Rook and Xander have in store,_ ' he thought, Ayannite blades whirling. The Jonin inhaled with purpose. Then, he charged.

* * *

Rook had no idea what to expect at the mountain crest where he tracked Agent Hyde's GPS location and was unprepared for both the quantity and certainty of over three dozen Languu corralled inside a domed containment field. The IgR Disrupter hummed with an effort to keep its captives incapacitated, yet the Hispanic's morbid fascination outweighed his caution. He approached the prison, ignoring all other subordinates that advised against the proximity.

"So these are the Jinchos," Rook said while kneeling.

What nasty beasts. Their elongated, gelatinous bodies resembled Slenderman folklore, and their demonic eyes were as dark as their future. The smallest alien reached from where it writhed against uprooted grass then retracted its clear fingers when they crackled against its prison wall.

"Shit, ya'll are ugly with a capital 'U'," the Hispanic added with a laugh. "No mouths. No nose. How do you breathe? Eat? Talk? Guess those are questions our brains on The Island will figure out. How exciting!"

"Sir?" the closest agent interjected.

"Yes, Rodgers?"

"Th—there's something I need to ask." Agent Rodgers' voice shook with his standardized weapon that clicked against his vest. "Agent Hyde ripped the aliens right from their city like...like some vengeful god."

"Point?"

"He leveled buildings, Sir, tore through walls. Is it safe to keep him with us?"

"Nothing in our line of work is ever safe," Rook countered.

"But he's psychic! He's already turned on us once, and that was before you acti—"

"You doubt I can handle him?" Rook's tone adopted an edge so sharp, he needn't face the junior agent to know he cringed.

"No, Sir," Rodgers answered.

"Good. And what about you, Jinchos? Think he'll turn again?"

The Languu struggled for balance, silent sans the pebbles and twigs their lethargic limbs disturbed.

"Agreed. Hey, mind if I steal Hyde for a while? He has a new job. Eh, Mano?"

Agent Hyde turned from his post at the IgR Disrupter core. He gave no response. Not with his lips, anyway. His dark gaze screamed in their place—screamed for control, release, and another chance to crush his superior, even though the rest of his facade remained impassive.

"I warned you," Rook said. "All ya had to do was listen. Sucks being trapped in your own body, huh?" The older Hispanic pulled a remote from his uniform's breast pocket and waved it, knowing Hyde lacked the free-will to snatch it away. "Told ya I own you. Now, it's show time."

* * *

By the time the fights spilled into the streets, the Pesto Warriors had decimated most EPF forces, including the few war tanks scattered throughout the village. Leonardo welcomed the cut back in opponents, although he and his brothers continued to struggle against Agents Vance and Barrett.

"Hold it." Mikey dodged Barrett towards Leo. "Weren't you just in New York?"

"Keep hittin', Mike!" Raph screamed, blocking Vance's punch.

"I swear, you look exactly like a super-chick I've fought before," the jokester continued.

"Who cares? Hit the damn broad!"

"Your name tag even says 'Barrett.' You sisters?" Mikey gasped, rolling sideways to avoid the brunette's boot. "No way! Same pasty skin. Same cold eyes. You're totally clones, aren't you?"

"Mikey!"

"But clones, Raphy! Ain't that totally—yikes!"

The orange-masked Chunin flinched when Barrett's heel almost made contact with his eye. Sophia stopped the woman before Leo could respond, making a crunching noise when she squeezed Barrett's foot. With a smirk, the blonde spun in a tight circle to hurdle the agent into a collapsed hut like a rag doll.

"Man, I love that woman!" Mikey cheered,

"Focus," Leo and Sophia said together. They exchanged a look then returned to battle.

"So how many more goons do you think are left?" Mikey added.

Raph scoffed somewhere near. "There'd be a lot less if ya quit runnin' yer—"

The hothead stopped short as if deprived of oxygen. Leo knocked out a random agent with his katana hilt then spun to where he last heard his brother's voice. The red-masked Chūnin arched several feet off the ground, face strained dark green and limbs shaking.

"When'd you learn to fly, Raphy Boy?" Mikey asked.

Raph glared down at his baby brother before the invisible force flung him across the street. Don raced after him with impressive speed, but Leo had no time to comprehend how fast the genius moved. He attention fixated on a short-shaven Hispanic with dull, black eyes.

"Xander," Leo breathed.

"You know him?" Sophia asked.

The blonde flanked Leo's left side while Mikey guarded the right. They formed a line in the street, serving as a wall between an EPF quartet and where the K'ekchi scrambled for safety near the rainforest. Rook nodded at Barrett and Vance before directing a smirk at the Jonin. How Leo wished to cut it off the agent's talon-marred face.

"Did I warn you or did I warn you, Tortuga?" Rook started, arms spread. "I don't understand you kids. Are death and slavery such a preferable choice?"

"It would've been slavery either way," Leo replied.

"That's over-thinking it. You could've retained your freedom. Now, most of you will end up like Hyde. Go on, tell them what that's like, Mano."

Xander remained unchanged from his void expression to his lifeless form.

"Oh, right," added Rook, "you can't."

"What has he done to you, Xander?"

"Contingency protocols. Marvelous, no?"

"You're awfully mouthy for a man hiding behind an attack dog," Sophia spat.

The older Hispanic studied her with furrowed brows. "You look familiar. Ah." His brows rose. "Agent Rizzo's girl. Palermo's heroine. The Island's care package will be brimming with interesting subjects, won't it?"

The blonde growled as she stepped forward, but Mike caught her arm when Don and Raph took his spot on Leo's right.

"What is he?" the hothead asked through pants.

"A telekinetic," Leo answered under his breath.

Don gasped. "Really?"

"Yeah, and he's not a bad guy," Leo added.

"You sure?" Mikey half-laughed. "Maybe someone should tell _him_ that!"

Xander's hands raised then pushed downward. With them, came a force that made Leo inhale ash when his face hit the ground. He struggled to move as his lungs burned, but he couldn't so much as cough under the immense gravity.

"Why make things more difficult?" Rook's voice carried as if he spoke through a door. "If you surrender, I'll make sure Xander doesn't crush all your bones. Sound fair?"

The gravity lifted long enough for Leo to suck in quick breathes between his coughing fit. He glared at Rook, and the older Hispanic sighed.

"I'll find your Madame Chief instead," he said.

The mutant snarled, body braced for the gravity's return. It hit suddenly and stung Leo's nerves, yet his locked muscles held strong. He kept his chin lifted, his glare steady. His heartbeat thumped faster when Sophia stepped ahead, one step after the other as the pressure increased.

"Fifone," the blonde hissed.

Rook chuckled. "You got a SHELL? Thought those were destroyed."

"Call me lucky."

"A thief, more like. Inspired by your boyfriend no doubt."

"Ex-boyfriend, actually," Mikey wheezed.

"Now's not the time for corrections," Leonardo told the jokester. He joined Sophia at half her speed and his vision whitened as the duo inched closer to the psychic until they stood within striking distance.

"Bingo," Sophia whispered.

She jutted her weapon forward, pushed a button that shot out the star in her staff's head on a chain. The star's points snagged Xander's neck like barbs, and when the blonde pushed another button, the area's gravity lifted with a faint crackle while the agent convulsed. Leo dove in for a snap kick during the reprieve. His foot sole tingled when it met Xander's chest, and Sophia wasted no time in retracting her star to swing the staff head at the agent.

"Keep him disoriented!" Leo cried while the psychic rolled though ash and cinders.


	38. Tribe (Part 2)

**CHAPTER 34:** **TRIBE (PART 2)**

Raphael acted on Leonardo's command first; he kicked Xander towards Michelangelo, who slingshot the agent into Donatello. Don slammed his bō staff at the base of Xander's skull, but the man didn't lose consciousness. He hung suspended, mid-fall, then sent the genius flying backward with invisible force.

"Got him!" Sophia yelled as she sped by Leo.

 _'Just what is that suit made for?_ ' the Jonin thought. He waved away ash clouds from his face while returning his attention to Agent Rook.

"Why fight a losing battle?" Rook asked across the street. "Barrett, Vance, forget the savages! Bring me shells instead!"

The agents attacked from unseen places; Vance verses Raph and Barrett versus Mikey, leaving Don, Sophia, and Leo to stand against Xander. Slight pressure pushed against the Jonin—a warning from Xander's powers.

"Come on, man," Leo said, toes curling. "I thought we had a deal. What about Lizbeth?"

Rook shook with laughter from behind the chaos. "Save your breath, Tortuga. The CMP neutralizes all free-will. Oh, that's the Cybernetic Mentis Program."

Leo sent the senior agent a sharp look.

"You seemed curious," Rook continued, half-shrugging. "It's Bishop's next stage in, uh, personnel management. For those less inclined to follow orders. He started the program to control those cyborgs he procured last year. Guess you wouldn't know anything about that, though, would you?"

He couldn't mean the cyborgs from Black Lotus. Don protected Melody and her friends, and he was present. So...Leo licked his lips.

"Of course, that all went south," Rook added as he waved a hand. "Like many things lately. You understand the stress of what Agent Hyde carries and why he can't afford to make the same mistake twice. Right, Mano?"

Psychic powers pushed down harder, although Xander's eyes spoke contrary to his actions. Leo saw the frustration and rage in the agent's gaze, particularly when his arms rose then swung downwards. A force like an anvil fell on the mutants and Sophia. It disarmed them, brought them first to their knees then to their chests, fire remains further smothering their restrained lungs.

"Like hell, I'm staying here," Sophia said. Her snort disturbed flaky, charred pieces and Leo choked on them as she army-crawled forward.

"Yes," Don wheezed when Leo met his stare, "she _is_ always like that."

"We need to play it smart," Leo managed through shallow breaths.

"Don't tell me. Sophia—"

The downward force shifted sideways as if the Earth's axis tipped. Air rolled over Leo's body, growing hot when he careened into a half-burnt hut. His shoulder drove into the collapsed supports, hardly cushioning his fall, and he hissed at the pain. In the dilapidated center, he pulled splinters from his bicep before standing. Blood dribbled down his arm, yet the deep-tissue wounds tingled then began to close from the bottom layer up.

"You too?" Don asked.

Leo looked at where his brother had knocked down one of the hut's sides. The genius was half-coated in black and straw, and he panted. But the raw skin that had been ripped off in his fall grew smaller in size until the deep red spots paled to a green-white.

"Recro-12," Leo muttered.

"It changed me as well," Don said.

"Enhanced healing?"

"Among other things. We can use that to our advantage." Don gimped over the wooden debris towards his brother. "Though we may not be as tough as Melody or the SHELL, we have other strong points."

"What do you suggest?"

"How's your speed?"

"Speed?"

"Kaiya can put me to shame, but I'm faster than before. Way faster."

"I haven't noticed my speed change much. It's mostly..." Leo trailed off in thought. He recalled infiltrating the EPF base and how he glided through the trees. "My strength," he added. "It's like I don't have to work hard to move."

"Perfect." Don flashed a gap-tooth grin. "We can use the old split blitz."

"With three?"

"Sophia makes up for both Raph and Mikey."

Leo cast his gaze aside. Outside the hut's remains, Sophia ducked and rolled to avoid Xander's psychic advancements, successfully dismantling homes in their wake.

"Sophia's the main distraction," Don added. "Help keep the guy's attention divided, and I can come in from behind. Psychic or not, I doubt he can catch me in time."

"Just how fast are you?"

"Get out there; I'll show you." It wasn't often the genius smirked. When he did, it meant he had the might to back up his claims, and Leo admitted to some excitement at finding out what that meant.

"Alright," he said. "After me then."

Leo leveled the rest of the hut as he vaulted from it. He sailed further than expected and almost side-stepped into Sophia when his feet slipped along the street's many layers. The blonde scrunched her dirty face in question, but there was no time to explain his entrance. He pushed her back to save her from another mind blast.

"I can look after myself, Capo!" she screamed.

Leo met her glare with a hard stare. "If you're here with my brothers, you play as a team."

The Jonin left no room for debate in his tone. Thankfully, Sophia conceded. Tight-lipped and snorting, she countered Xander's next attack alongside Leonardo. Their fists shattered a burnt rafter the agent tossed their way, and Leo heard the blonde chuckle while the two braced for more bullet-like debris.

' _This would be a lot easier with my_ —'

Katanas! Leo spotted the Ayannite glinting in the sunlight just before a dash of purple and green caught his weapons. Don spun in one swift motion, twisting the katanas, so they faced his older brother hilt-first rather than blade-first. By the time Leo's fingers wrapped around the Tsuka Itos' rough fabric, his genius brother had hidden again, perhaps in another attempt to sneak up on Xander.

' _Sorry, Don,_ ' Leo thought. ' _We'll give you another chance._ '

"Sophia," the Jonin said. He sliced through flying rubble, whose bits stung his skin and thumped against the blonde's bio-suit. "You know what a split blitz is?"

Sophia decimated a dirt clump with her staff that she had recovered at one point. "What's it matter?"

Leo swung his katanas in an arch, redirecting a section of straw siding aimed at the blonde. He gave her a look, and Sophia puffed up.

"Certo," she continued. "I'll go left. You go right."

Leo had no chance to argue his leadership; Sophia darted away with speed matched by Don. She kept her center of gravity low, feet making trenches in the street, and the Jonin followed suit with a scoff. Xander's attention darted from one side to the other as the duo advanced. They thwarted every projectile the psychic uprooted, and when they came close enough that Leo could hear the human pant, he prayed Don would strike before they fell victim to another psychic hit.

"Come on, Donny," he whispered.

"Hey, fifone!" Sophia batted back a stray rock. "What's taking so long?"

Was she talking to Xander or Don? Because either one seemed likely. Leo shot her a disproving stare, and, at that moment, his weight grew tenfold. The mutant struggled for air, turning his eyes towards the listless agent. A trail of brown descended from the sky—the afterimage of Don's bō staff while it swung down on Xander's head. The weapon splintered centimeters from contact, spraying outward like a frag grenade, and Don was shot back into the street with a snapping sound.

' _What the hell?_ ' Leo pushed his body to stay up, even though pain left him breathless.

"Miraculous survival skills, no?" Rook asked. His voice sounded strained, winded, and despite the smirk on his mauled face, Leo knew by the agent's half-backed stance that he had been worried about Don's sneak attack. "Mano's ability keeps him alive whether he wants it to or not. Guess I should be thankful for that, even if—gyah!"

A stream of bright lights cut through the group. The first struck Rook's leg and a second and third grounded Xander. The weight on Leo lifted, and he nearly overcompensated the effort it took to spin. Behind him, Tlaloc aimed a plasma rifle, Texohuitztli gleaming with sweat and hair matted with blood on one side of his temple. The Tonalquizca looked disgusted with his weapon of choice and tossed it aside after firing another shot at Rook.

"Tlaloc!" Leo called out. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you, evidently," Tlaloc answered in Nahuatl. He partly smiled then flinched.

"You shouldn't be moving," Leo scolded. "You may have a concussion."

"A what?" The tribesman shook his head, yet stopped the moment he swayed.

"You aren't in any condition to—" The Jonin sighed and approached Tlaloc to steady him with a hand. "Where are the others?"

Tlaloc blinked twice. "The kids do not need to fight. And Coyo is wounded. I can manage."

"We have enough people out here as is. What we need is someone to help the Languu before the EPF cart them away."

"The Teo?"

"Only reason Xander is here must be because he's already caught them. If we keep him here, you can help the Languu. Got it?"

Tlaloc needed little else to convince him. Leo heard Xander and Rook groan, and when he turned, he realized Tlaloc had also shot Barrett and Vance to give his brothers an upper-hand in their fights.

"Go!" Leo continued. He pointed in the direction of Ihiyoyahualli before diving after his lost katanas.

"Bastards," Rook seethed. He stood, revealing his wound had stunned him more than harmed him, and faced Xander as the psychic rose as well. "Stop that savage, Mano!"

' _Shit_!' Leo bum-rushed Xander before he could hit Tlaloc with his invisible power. He stumbled, running after Tlaloc in the short pause it took for Xander to reorient himself.

"Ayolt?"

Leo waved Tlaloc forward as they hurried into the rainforest. "No talk, just move!"

The tribesman would understand soon; Leo just hoped he'd be enough muscle to keep Xander busy while Tlaloc freed the aliens.

* * *

With every psychic wave Leonardo and Tlaloc drowned under, every Languu cry, every step, Xander warred for control and lost. He had no say in how his muscles followed Rook's orders, and even less say in how he could communicate that with the mutant turtle and native. He remained trapped, a conscience crammed into a body that felt thick as stone. And he fought for freedom as his powers slammed his opponents into the IgR Disrupter Field.

"Xa—Xander," Leonardo panted in the dirt. "You don't have to do this."

Damn straight he didn't. But would that stop the Mexican's telekinesis from rolling the turtle through a brush pile? No; Rook willed it, even from miles away.

"You're psychic!" the mutant continued. He dodged another mind blast, partially because Xander's attention fractured when Tlaloc swiped a spear at the agent's side. "Whatever Rook's done, you can fight this!"

Lord, did Xander ache to scream. He had no voice, though—no escape, no leverage, only nerves that burned from overused abilities and a desire to stop.

"Zaddir!"

Xander followed Leonardo's gaze to the alien prisoners. A few had been loaded into additional cells for transport, yet one shrugged off their wardens to face the mutant. It looked bluer than the rest, bigger too, and spoke through a silent connection.

"He isn't bad," Leonardo added. "You know he isn't."

"Why insist, Ayotl?" Tlaloc asked. His weapon whirled, a noise that passed closely by Xander's ear before the agent moved.

"Zaddir," Leo crossed his dark blades, "help. Please."

Help? How? Who could reach Xander at his core? Who could hear his inner voice let alone unlock his prison door? The only way to make a difference would be to destroy both Rook's remote and the satellite that broadcasted the signal nation-wide. Somehow, he doubted the mutant and alien held those sorts of resources.

 _'Xa...der._ '

Xander twitched when the Jincho's voice whispered in his mind.

' _Xan...er._ '

The voice strengthened, sending chills down the Mexican's neck as he tossed Tlaloc sideways.

' _Xander!_ '

Xander paused—not because something physical stopped him or because Rook demanded it or because he wanted to, but because the voice became Lizbeth's. It struck him with memories, flashes of their life together: when he spilled coffee during their first meeting, her irregular-tooth smile, their first awkward kiss, first apartment, first puppy, first Leukemia positive test.

The man growled, eyes stinging, limbs quivering. What he wouldn't do to hear Liz giggle again.

' _Xan..._ ' Zaddir's voice lost potency and familiarity.

Although the IgR Field silenced the Jincho, Xander had to wonder if the alien could help him regain control if someone destroyed the device. His eyes wandered the semi-transparent dome in hopes Leonardo would watch where the agent's gaze landed. Behind it, a pillar-like generator hummed between the transport cells. The Disrupter at its center was twice the size of the last, no longer allowed for hand-held use, and in their haste, Bishop's scientists had overlooked a key defense. It was left unshielded.

"Is that what's keeping the Languu here?" asked Leonardo.

Xander answered through his gaze; it was the only means he had before orders compelled him to slam the mutant against a tree. Leaves fluttered down at the force he increased until a sharp pain above his tailbone made him whirl. He met Tlaloc's inhumanly-orange eyes as blood soaked the agent's uniform then snapped the native's spear in half by just imagining it. Tlaloc gapped at the splintered metal, knuckles whitening as he posed with his new batons.

Idiot; didn't he know when to give in?

"Tlaloc, wait!" Leonardo screamed over grunts and a sizzle.

From the corner of his eye, Xander watched the mutant knock two agents unconscious before prying at the generator. The Disrupter remained magnetized in place, which begged the question: how could Leonardo's swords move so freely? They neither gravitated towards the center ring nor resisted when their wielder pulled them back. The blades skewered the device, its song increasing to a deafening pop that blinded the area with light, heat, and electricity.


	39. Tribe (Part 3)

**CHAPTER 34:** **TRIBE (PART 3)**

A thunderous noise boomed in the mountain tops, yet Coyolxauhqui felt consumed by its energy as if she stood in the explosion's midst. Her limbs tingled from a heat she longer stood beside, and she gasped for air so strongly that Izel and Huitzilopochtli steadied her.

"Coyo?" Izel asked.

"L—Leo." The Chieftain wheezed then dry heaved. "Za—ddir."

"What about them?" Huitzi added.

Coyo hung her head. How could she put the feeling into words? The two were hurt yet also relieved. Over what?

"Teicu, what happened?" Huitzi continued, sterner.

The young woman pulled away from her family's hold. She stumbled onto her knees, weak from her seared feet, and inhaled a deep, smoky breath that made her cough.

"Coyo!"

Coyo twisted on the ground to face her best friend. "Stay," she said.

"I am no pet!" Izel countered.

"Coyo is chief. You stay."

"Why? Where will you go? What will you do? You cannot walk."

"I can try."

"You will cripple yourself!"

"So Yo and Coyo will be twins." Coyo's gaze lingered on the sleeping cochotl her brother held, particularly on his mangled talon.

"Haughtiness begets stupidity," Huitzi said.

"Coyo must see, Teachcauh," Coyo insisted. "Must go to him." Izel understood who she meant, as did Huitzi; they both remained silent when the young woman addressed the Pesto Chieftain amongst the K'ekchi survivors. "Thank you, Xiptl. You came, even though you said Xolotl hunts us."

The aged man dipped his chin in respect. "Your letters," he started, "we burned them, but their words lingered in my memory. There are few tribes left in the Amazon, and when we saw the flames..."

"You decided to help at a cost," Izel spat.

Xiptl brought his dark gaze to the skinhead, listless. "In ancient times, the Pesto would never have aided you or scalped those unwilling to heed our trade. You seem part-way there already."

Coyo sighed while Izel rubbed her skull with a sour look. "Chief Xiptl."

"Yes?"

"Please, keep my people safe."

"Most foreigners have been pushed back or killed. Those left are the three superiors engaged by that fair-haired woman and ayotl."

Coyo quirked half her lips at Xiplt's furrowed expression. "Trust them. They are allies."

"Ometecuhtli and Omecihuatl's world is filled with wonders."

"Ometeotl's world, actually," interjected Izel.

"Debate religion later," Huitzi told her.

"Izel," Coyo said in a gentle voice. Her best friend huffed, and the Chieftain's smile grew when she looked over her dirty, wounded tribe. "Follow Xiplt," she added. "He protects you now."

"Chief!" several people cried out.

Coyo silenced them with a wave. She struggled to stand on her throbbing feet, only to be caught by Izel when they gave way.

"I am coming," the younger woman said.

"Iz—"

"You are my sister as much as you are my chief. Huitzi will help Yo. I will help you."

Izel left no room for compromise in her stare, so Coyo accepted her offer of support. They left behind a final smile before heading down the burning streets, where Leonardo's family fought the Yaoqui on the village's other side.

"Will you tell me why you wish to rush over there?" Izel questioned.

"Leo's tribe fights for us," answered Coyo. "I cannot wait on the side."

"You also cannot fight. At this point, you are as useless as me."

"Yet here we are."

The skinhead snorted. "Teueltiuh, always getting me in trouble."

"Not how I remember our childhood."

"We were both guilty." Chuckling, Izel guided Coyo around a raging brush pile and cringed from its heat. "What if they lose?"

"They will not. Circumstances have changed; Coyo senses it through Mozallo."

"Are Leo and the Teo well?"

"Yes? Somewhat. Their emotions are jumbled; however, they make me believe something big is coming."

"And you want to see what that is. Typical."

"Leonardo is involved. That much Coyo knows."

"Which is why you want to be there, whatever may come."

"Yes." The chieftain gimped forward on inflamed feet, drenched in sweat from both pain and anxiety. "Coyo brought Leo into our war. She will stand by him until its end."

* * *

Obadiah found the enemy's resistance laughable. They hardly stood their ground against Agents Vance and Barrett, despite their SHELL advantage. And that was before the senior agent joined the fray.

"Rizzo taught you poorly, chiquitita," Obadiah told the blonde. He squeezed the material that protected her hands, although the cybernetic enhancements woven below the plating prevented him from crushing any bones.

"Please." The blonde smirked, arms straining as Obadiah's might slid her feet backward through ash and dirt. "I'm the one who taught Marco."

"No wonder he was caught." Moretti's smirk fell with a roar—a rookie mistake. Rage made her forfeit the grappling match, and the Hispanic dodged her uppercut, chuckling. "Temper, temper," he teased.

The blonde growled again, but before she could prepare a second punch, Obadiah kneed her stomach then hammered his interlocked fists against the back of her head. She met the earth face-first, and the agent gave her no time to recover when he Ax Stomped between her shoulder blades.

"Bet Rizzo failed to grab a handbook for that thing while he was out on his crusade."

Moretti grumbled something in Italian, likely a curse that brought a smile to Obadiah's aching face.

He kneeled while she reoriented herself through shallow pants then flipped open a compartment where the SHELL's belt unfolded into spinal protection from the small of her back. "I had close friends who tested these beauties, Black Ops who gave me a run for my money during training. Shame their funding ran out. Then again, nothing beats old-fashioned strength. Wouldn't ya say?"

"You—" Moretti tensed when Obadiah initiated the SHELL's emergency protocols. They beeped their compliance, and the bio-suit locked its joints, so the hot-headed blonde remained prisoner inside it. "What did you do, Stronzo?" she demanded.

The Hispanic clicked his tongue. "Now, who would make suits like this without proper measures to prevent highjackings? Should've read the fine print."

"Screw you!"

"Nah. Ya ain't my type. Barrett? Vance?" Obadiah looked up from where he crouched, and his lips twitched upward. The mutants laid sprawled against the street, the youngest below Vance's foot and the other two breathless under Barrett's hands. "Nice! Either of you good at gift wrapping? I'd love to put a bow on this delivery." Neither woman cracked a smile, but the senior agent tossed his head back in amusement all the same. "Only one thing can make this day better."

And speaking of the devil, was that Hyde? The younger Hispanic strolled through the smoke, cinders, and ash raining across the burning village, and Obadiah rose once he reached speaking distance.

"There you are!" the older man yelled. "Thought you were ignoring my calls, Mano! I was lonely!" He chuckled with less mirth than before; part of him had worried the psychic slipped from his control when the younger agent ceased updates and delayed his response. "Are the others taken care of? The Jinchos ready for transport?"

"Where's my bro, asshole?" the red-masked mutant snarled. His reached towards Hyde and Barrett winded him with a strike to his upper chest.

"Probably in a cage, eh, Mano?" Obadiah faced Hyde, who starred with unblinking eyes as ash dusted him. "Kay. New order: crush these idiots. Our docs will have an easier time garnering samples with their bones broken."

A moment passed, so still that Obadiah heard crackles from the waning fires.

"Hyde? Hyde!" The older Hispanic lifted the CMP controller, wounded cheek stinging when his frown spread the wound. "I said _crush_ them!"

The controller beeped, confirmation that it sent signals to Hyde's nervous system. The agent remained unflinching, and Obadiah's stomach turned.

"Something wrong, Mano?" Hyde asked lowly.

Impossible! Bishop's protocols were flawless; there was no way Xander could make the Mentis Program malfunction—psychic or not. So how could he speak?

"Here I thought there'd never be a day where you shut up, Rook."

Obadiah fought the urge to lick his lips. He despised weakness and beat the CMP remote with his thumb as his expression hardened.

"It's useless," Hyde added. He took steps towards the crowd. "Satellite's fried. Someone helped me see to that."

"Come any closer, I won't need a satellite," Obadiah said.

"Unlike you, my power isn't limited to how far a signal can relay."

Hot pain broke Obadiah's skin, and his heart skipped a beat at the sound of cracking plastic. For a moment, he thought he had shattered the CMP remote. A closer look, though, revealed that the jagged pieces floated around the man's red-stained fist.

"What have you done?" Obadiah asked. He lowered his arms to hide their shakes, although the slight tremors in their muscles roused additional sweat across his brow.

"I made a choice. Like you can. Right now." The younger Hispanic stopped a few yards shy of Barrett and Vance, and their captives squirmed.

"Where's Leo?" the red-masked one repeated. His arm was now pinned behind his shell, disrupting dirt when he snorted against the street.

"Safe," Hyde answered. "I protected them when the Disrupter exploded. Again."

Obadiah's eyes widened. "You did _what_?"

"Saved them. Or rather, they saved me."

"Maricón! Do you have no loyalty?"

"If you thought I did you never would've subjected me to the CMP program. Especially without my consent."

"You think we'd let a psychic time-bomb roam around without proper monitoring?" Agent Vance interjected.

Hyde met her steely stare. "I take it you had a hand in the implants?"

"I'm the one who drugged you."

"And I can let that slide."

"Just like that?"

"I don't want to hurt _you_. Just back down and leave."

"You mean become a coward!" Vance almost lost her prisoner when she leaned towards Hyde, but then she directed her anger towards her boot, driving it into the mutant's skull. "You're bad luck, Xander. Ask your parents. Your girl. Quincy."

Hyde twitched.

"Your power's a liability," Vance continued. "It killed good soldiers and stole my chance to avenge my parents. Like hell I'm going to let these people be!"

The psychic kept quiet, impassive. He brought his attention to the captives before facing his superior again. When their eyes locked, Obadiah realized without a doubt that Hyde prepared himself for the worst-case scenario, and the older Hispanic bite back bile as he squared his shoulders.

"Hyde," he addressed, "you can turn back."

"I've made up my mind. Have you?"

"You can't trust Jinchos, Mano," Obadiah insisted. His voice raised, partly to hide its urgency. "They're aliens. You?"

"Aren't considered human anymore. You tagged me, labeled me inhuman. The only one whose acknowledged that without issue is Zaddir."

"Zaddir?"

"The Jincho who opened my eyes. She unlocked part of me and"—Hyde half-smiled—"it's freeing."

Obadiah clenched his jaw to keep it from chattering. How could things turn to shit so quickly? He had the perfect setup. Now he struggled against self-preservation and the insistent belief that he could talk down the younger Hispanic. Sure, he knew several tactics to gain an edge, but without another Cybernetic Mentis device, Obadiah was vulnerable.

' _He ain't a murderer,_ ' the older agent thought, widening his stance. ' _He won't do it. I just have to hold my ground._ '

"What will it be?" Hyde cried out.

"Rot in hell, you freak!" Vance countered.

Hyde glowered as if on cue with a snap that came from Vance's spine when it folded in half. An invisible force torpedoed her into a fiery hut, burying her under embers, straw roofing, and siding. Obadiah knew her death had been instantaneous and backpedaled while the same force sent Barrett sailing across the village into the forest. She sunk into the treetops, much like how Obadiah's stomach dropped as the mutants stood up.

"Get away from my girlfriend, Scarface," the youngest Hamato spat. He smiled, although his bright eyes practically glowed with indignation.

"Leo!" a woman called out. The savage's leader hobbled across the street, her feet red and swollen. Her skinhead friend kept her upright, and the others faced where she smiled. "Leo okay!"

Great; as if the company wasn't bad enough. Obadiah scrunched his nose when the fourth mutant and shaggy-haired savage join the crowd. The older Hispanic left the blonde so her 'boyfriend' could tend her, but no sooner did they reunite did he become paralyzed by Hyde's power.

"Leo!" Ugh, the pitiful savage fell into the mutant's arms, and Obadiah had no choice except watch. "No hurt?"

The monster ran a hand down her cheek—a chilling sight. "Thanks to Xander," he said. He turned towards the psychic, whose attention never strayed from his trapped superior.

"Leave," Hyde told him.

"Excuse me?"

"Tend to the wounded. I'll take care of the rest."

"Xander..."

The younger Hispanic steeled; Obadiah felt it in the force that pushed against his bones. "This is my business. Understand?"

No! Obadiah almost begged the others not to leave. They were Hyde's buffer, the reason he kept himself in check. Without them, his blatant intents would run rampant, and their inevitability dripped cold sweat down the older agent's body.

"Xander." Leonardo paused while the remaining crowd traveled through faint cinders. "Don't do anything you'll regret."

"Oh, I won't regret it," Hyde countered.

The mutant looked dissatisfied with the answer, yet followed the savage leader when she tugged at his arm. They disappeared into the smoky distance, leaving behind an atmosphere thicker than the heat, humidity, and fires combined.

"Feel the pressure, Señor?" Hyde asked. His hand lifted, and with it came Obadiah. Sweat beads flowed into the older man's eyes when his boots left the ground, and ash clung to him as his body bent against his will. "Constricting, isn't it? This is what it feels like to struggle. To grasp for control. To fear."

The younger Hispanic's fingers flexed inward, and Rook's vision doubled as he fought to keep straight. Sharp cracks lit his nerves. His bones fractured, piercing his skin with a fury he never thought possible. Worse yet, he had little air to scream or no voice to plead with.

"I'm sick of the EPF's bullshit," Hyde added. "I'm sick of your exploits, your brutality. And I'm sure as hell am _sick_ of people messing with my damn head!"

 _'Wait_ ,' Obadiah thought. A telekinetic and telepath were similar enough, weren't they? Hyde could read his mind. ' _Maybe we can work out a deal, eh, Mano?_ _My life_ _for your freedom. Bishop never has to know. Sound good?_ ' The older Hispanic gapped, nose stinging from urine and the blood that coated his clammy, ripped skin. But his attempt to smile only made Hyde sour.

"This is _my_ life!" the psychic screamed. "I accepted Zaddir's offer. She'll save Liz. And you? You can rot in hell!"

Obadiah drew in a curt breath before Hyde's hand clenched shut. White blotted out his vision as his ringing ears grew silent. The new handicaps brought attention to how his bones broke again and again—until he could no longer feel and oxygen became pointless.


	40. Hamato

**A/N:** Stop! Brother time!

Seems everyone's in agreement about Rook's demise—cast and readers. Only one to blame is himself. *nods*

* * *

 **CHAPTER 35:** **HAMATO**

Xander looked near-death—eyes lined with insomnia, body puffed with bruises and cuts, and a twisted rag stuffed in his crooked nose to keep it from dripping blood. He wheezed yet sent Leonardo a smile that made the mutant laugh.

"You look like shit," he told the ex-agent.

"And I feel worse than shit," Xander replied. His head leaned back against the splintered tree trunk that supported him along the rainforest outskirts, holding his breath when faraway natives in Tlahcoyan raised their voices.

"You aren't their concern anymore," Leo said. "You stopped Rook, saved them. Again."

"Don't feel like I saved anyone."

"Well, you did. Including Lizbeth."

Xander glared, although he spoke more with concern than disdain as his bandaged hands flexed over his knees, "I'm going to ruin her life. Show up on the front porch like, 'Hey, Babe, my old organization wants me dead, so we gotta run. Why? Oh, I'm psychic. And may've killed my boss. Also, here's an alien who can cure your Leukemia. Let's get packing!'"

Leo choked on laughter, even though the situation was serious. "I believe if she was worth all the pain you went through, you'll find a way to work it out."

"Maybe. Liz uses Tarot cards. She ain't close-minded, just...prepared to die."

"So it's your job to convince her otherwise."

"Hard to do under these circumstances. A fugitive life is hard."

"Tell me about it."

Xander met the mutant's smile and sighed. "How do you stand it? Every day, years on end, know there are people out there who want you killed for an ability or reason you had no control over?"

"Same way you tolerated the EPF. With love." Leo glanced towards the afternoon sun that peeked through large clouds. He had been the only one besides Coyo willing to wait for Zaddir on the ex-agent's behalf, and he had convinced Huitzi to make her tend her feet, no matter how insistent she had been to stay at the mutant's side.

"What happens now?" Xander asked.

' _That is your choice to make._ ' Zaddir materialized in the wood line's shade, far from where the sun touched. Her pit eyes fell on the Mexican, who groaned. ' _I debated with the Quizzinteyo._ '

"That's a fancy word for all the Languu clans," Leo supplied.

' _Yes._ ' The alien made a sound like an inhale. ' _I told them of my promise. Of course, they were...displeased. But they couldn't argue the results nor the fact that Xander played a key role._ '

"Yippee," Xander grumbled.

' _Albeit through strict regulations and careful monitoring, you are permitted to bring Lizbeth to me for the procedure._ '

"Wait," the dirty man straightened up, "you want her to come here? Do you have those sorts've resources? Or doctors?"

' _Transfusions are tricky outside Languu knowledge. My people must watch carefully._ '

"Great. Now I have to tack on, 'to meet this alien, we gotta go back to Ecuador'?"

' _Or she can accept the alternative. That is your next battle, Xander._ ' Zaddir shifted towards Leo as Xander rubbed his face. She smiled, even though only the mutant sensed her humor. ' _Can you make it home?_ '

The Mexican snorted. "I ain't helpless."

' _But you have no idea what you will do after I heal your love._ '

"Maybe we'll go to Fiji. There's no drama out there, right?"

Zaddir shrugged.

"Guess we'll jump that hurdle when the time comes. Leonardo?" Xander stood with a low grunt and looked down with tired eyes. "Thank you," he added. "Tell the chief—"

"I will. Be safe. I hope everything goes well with Lizbeth." The mutant meant his words; Xander knew it, and he smiled before he left.

' _Now it's your turn._ '

Leo eyed Zaddir. "For?"

' _Family. You had to—what is that American phrase?—beat them with a stick to keep them in the village._ '

"I figured the less company Xander had, the better off he'd be."

' _An understandable consideration. That is why the Languu must recede into Ihiyoyahualli. Despite the ruins, we—_ '

"Went through something traumatic. Gotta realign. I get it."

' _Thank you._ '

"Mikey will be disappointed he didn't meet you, though."

The blue-white alien chuckled. ' _Apologize for me. Goodbye, Leonardo._ '

"Goodbye, Zaddir." As quick as the last syllable left the Jonin's lips, Zaddir disappeared, and Leo's mind raced with how he'd navigate all the attention his brothers would give when he returned.

* * *

Fearless' bug-eyed wonder made saving the best news for last worth it in Raphael's opinion.

"Kids?" Leo asked.

"Kids," Raph replied.

"As in babies?"

"Uh-huh."

"Little people?"

"Yup."

"Yours and Nia's? Twins?"

"Livin', breathin' hybrids, Bro. Crazy, eh?"

"I'd say impossible. That's just…" The Jonin sat back in the cramped, makeshift teepee as Raph smirked. "Wow."

"You got nieces, man!" Mikey added. "And they're hands-down the cutest things I've ever seen."

"Scusa?" Sophia interjected.

The jokester sent his girlfriend a sheepish grin. "You're sexy-cute, Hoshi. Anyway, just wait 'til you meet them. You won't wanna put 'em down. Right, Raphy?"

The hothead chucked an alien-looking fruit at Mike's head. The guy was an idiot, although Raph did miss his girls with an ache that left him sleepless.

"Raph, don't throw Naranjilla," Leo said. "The K'ekchi were gracious to share what was left of their harvest."

Raph sent Leo a look yet kept quiet. It felt like decades since he was last scolded, and the Jonin spoke so naturally, it made the Chunin wonder how much his older brother had changed.

"We missed ya, Bro," Raph muttered.

"Things haven't been the same without you," said Mikey.

"You left me with these two, alone," Don added. "You know what kind'a headache that is?"

Leo smiled at his brothers, but the motion looked more pained than warm. "Sorry."

"We thought we'd have to drag you back," Mikey continued. "Had a plan and everything. Don would dust you with knockout powder."

The genius deadpanned. "I never agreed to that."

"Then Raphy would take you out by the legs."

The hothead snorted. "I said I'd take 'em by the skull."

"Hoshi would sit on you."

"Like that would make a difference, Figo."

"Then I, with great charm, would convince you that you need your family."

"I know I do, Mike," Leo told the youngest. "Now."

"What happened?" Donny broke the growing silence and stared from behind his purple mask. "Everything's changed at home. But something's shifted inside you as well. It's in your eyes, how you carry yourself, talk. You're Leo, just…a different version."

The Jonin chuckled. "You can tell from one fight?"

"The fight was the start. The way you spoke to the natives afterward, with those four in particular, I noticed with them."

Leo grew somber when Mikey agreed, "Yeah, here we've blathered for hours while Leo's hardly mentioned anything about his vacation."

"I'm not sure you want to know," whispered Leo.

"We're your brothers," said Mikey, "of course we do."

"We knew—well—" Don half-grinned. " _Splinter_ knew home wouldn't help. I doubted this sabbatical would do any good. Seems I was wrong. I'd like to know why."

"Leo?" a woman's voice called through the teepee's door. The big-haired chick from earlier entered while supported by a walking staff, almond eyes darting over the group.

"Coyo," Leo said. Interesting; his whole demeanor brightened.

"Coyo has, uh…" Coyo held out another plate filled with odd food.

"We haven't finished the last one," Raph told her. He gestured towards the alien-fruit, and the tribeswoman smiled more.

"Always more," she said.

"Don't argue," Leo told Raph. "They only get pushier."

"Sounds like Mum," Sophia added. The blonde accepted the plate Coyo handed over the group's center then stuffed two slices of whatever in her big mouth.

Coyo gimped back as Leo caught her hand; it seemed instinctual since Fearless hesitated before spoke, "Stay."

"Le—Leo's family," Coyo replied. "No make trouble."

"Trouble? It's no trouble. Right?" Leo faced his brothers with eager eyes.

"Leo's family," Coyo repeated. "Be with them. Is what he want." The pain they shared when she broke Leo's hold was glaring, even by Raph's standards. Fearless watched her leave on hobbled feet, and a sinking feeling wormed its way into the hothead's gut when his brother sighed.

"Who is she?" Don asked.

Leo refused to look up and wrung his hands.

"Leo," Don continued, "who is she?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth," Mikey answered.

"Truth sucks."

"Don't be a fifone, Capo." Everyone watched Sophia as she chewed.

She shrugged under the attention and Leo hardened his expression, saying, "I'll explain. If _she_ leaves."

"Scusa?" Pink asked, mouth full.

"You are kind of a stranger in his book, Hoshi," Mikey said.

"What am I gunna do? Awkwardly shift through rubble and stare at people I can't understand?"

"Find Izel, Huitzi, Tlaloc, Nenetl, or Coyo," Leo answered. "They speak English."

"Great, I can make Tatuaggi squirm."

"Tat-what?"

"Ya'll get used to Italian," Raph told Leo. "Ciao, Pink."

Sophia sent Raphael a dirty look before standing.

"Grazie," Mikey sang. He pecked his girl's cheek with a kiss then sat back down when she left. "So," he started, "tell us everything."

* * *

Leonardo had suffered, and Donatello knew the others struggled to keep quiet as their eldest brother described how much. He watched the journey unfold in his imagination—from Leo's suicidal longing and meeting the K'ekchi to the brotherhood he formed with the natives and his rebirth through alien intervention.

"Let me get this straight," Mikey said. "These people do business with April, and they protect the same alien race Nia's descended from. In fact, you've met Nia's aunt (who really isn't an aunt or an uncle) and said alien helped give you psychotherapy by literally invading your mind. In doing that, you formed a weird bond that you had to share with that dudette Coyo, so the three of you wouldn't go crazy and blow up or whatever. It burned a new language into your head, you're now an honorary warrior, and it turns out Coyo is actually Nia's cousin."

"That about covers it," Leo answered.

"Holy shit," Raph muttered.

"Of all the tribes you could've run into." Donny shook his head.

"Turtle Luck, am I right?" asked Mikey with a snigger. "Nia and I should write a comic. Our lives beat any fiction, I swear."

"This bond," Don said. "Mozallo, you called it?" The genius gained Leo's attention then slowed his pace over grassy hills. "Is that what changed you? Or did something else?"

Leo's eyes turned frontwards. "What changed you, Donny? Turned you from a guy who disregarded love into one who fought for it, even against his own brothers? What matured Raph? Or gave Mikey that stupid grin?"

"Ow!" Mike interjected. Still, the youngest kept smiling.

"I owe Coyolxauhqui everything," Leo added. He gripped a disfigured totem that hung around his neck and stroked it with his thumb. "I pushed her, challenged her, and she never gave up. She saved me. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Mozallo makes that a million times worse."

"Worse?" Don asked.

"Because you gotta leave?" Mikey's voice trembled when Leo met him with a frown.

"I did leave," the Jonin said just above a whisper. "Had to. For you."

"When did ya do that?" questioned Raph.

"Night before last. But when I saw the smoke swallowing the mountain…"

"You went back," Mikey said, "then we had to save your shell."

Don nodded. "Even if we hadn't been tracking your cell, we had a feeling you'd be involved."

"We never did find out where that was, did we?" Mike asked.

"Doesn't matter. I'll make Leo a new one when we get home."

"Home."

"Leo?"

The Jonin stopped at the crest of a hill. From the vintage, Don could see the devastating remains of K'ekchi Village. Its structures were charred, dilapidated with blackened rags and decommissioned tanks scattered throughout its streets. It smelled of corpses, and the only hut standing hummed with activity from tribe survivors and their saviors.

"I know my purpose," Leo continued. "I have people to meet. Dangers to canvas. A life in New York. That's where I belong."

"And yet?" Mikey asked.

Leo gripped the totem completely then looked away. Don recognized the shame; he wore it once, back when he had disappointed Melody.

"It's dinner time," Leo added. "Let's eat before…Let's just eat."

The Jonin began walking down the hill, leaving his brothers to share concerned looks before they followed suit.

* * *

Dude, Leo's infatuation with the curly-haired Amazon was so obvious, it pained Michelangelo. "See how they try _not_ to share looks?" Mike whispered towards Donny.

"Yes, Mikey."

"Raph, you watch Nia the same way."

"What of it, Shell-for-Brains?"

"You _sure_ we can't say anything?"

"Mike—"

"Come on, guys, Leo's been through too much to let love die like this. I'm thinking full intervention. How about it?"

"Pardon, Leo's tribe?"

Mikey jumped in his seat at the bonfire and withheld a scream. He failed to notice Coyo's brother until the tribesman sat beside the trio—which wouldn't have been so bad if the guy looked more like a person than a walking skeleton with teal tattoos and an oversized loincloth.

"Chicha?" Huitzi-what's-his-face offered.

"Uh," the orange-masked Chūnin pushed the flask back towards its owner, "I think Leo's mentioned that stuff. I'm ninety-three-point-six percent sure we ain't supposed to touch it."

"Enjoy our friend's letters?" asked the skeleton with a laugh.

"Yes," Donny answered. "Thanks for letting him send those. They were our lifeline, no matter how cryptic."

"Put in perspective wit' what's goin' on here?" Raph added. "They suddenly make sense."

"Especially the optimism," Mike continued. He chuckled, though had a hard time smiling when he saw Leo watch Coyo across the bonfire like the Jonin couldn't trust himself near her.

"We share commonality," Huitzi said. He, too, watched the duo.  
"Siblings grow together. I love Teicu, wish she fulfilled Chieftain. Truth? She no live before Leonardo."

"Yeah." Raph kept his voice low. "Complicates things, huh?"

"Maybe not. If Leonardo act."

"Ha!" Mike turned, grinning. "Now will ya'll support an intervention?"

"Unless someone beats us to it."

The Jokester made a face. "What chu talkin' about, Donny?"

"That." The genius pointed at a tribeswoman in a poncho and feathered ear cuffs. She pulled Leonardo by the tails of his bandana mask, and Michelangelo heard Raphael stand as the two stalked into the shadows.

"I talk to Coyo," Huitzi said. "See Izel."

So that was her name. Coyo's best friend, right? Mikey nodded, sure of himself, and then complained when his brothers followed the skinhead without him. The group gathered outside the massive hut, where firelight was scarce and the atmosphere thick.

"Ugh," Mikey said. "How can you stand this? I literally feel like my limbs are Velcroed to the air."

"Be thankful it's not Dry Season," Leo told him. "Humidity doubles."

"You mean it gets worse?"

"Yup. What are you guys doing here, anyway?"

"We're with her." Mike jabbed a thumb at Izel, who soured.

"Your woman rude," she said.

"Wha? _My_ Hoshi?" Mikey laughed for all of a second. "Yeah. Sorry."

"No, I like," Izel added. "She unafraid. Unlike others."

"Is that why you—"

Izel cut Leo off with an unknown language. She crossed her arms, dark brows furrowing. "Even brothers understand."

"They're only here because they're nosy. Nothing's changed."

"Everything change. Since Coyo save Ayotl from Hupaxque, things change."

The Jonin shuffled in the shadows, a sigh on his lips. He urged his siblings with mournful looks, but none defended him, not even Donny.

"K'ekchi Tribe no longer," Izel continued.

"There're still people left," Leo argued.

"We never forsake Eztaca but are like lame birds. Pesto Tribe help."

"At the cost of your leadership? Xiptl can't force you to—"

"No force, Leo. K'ekchi willing. Coyo sacrifice pride and power. We admire her. It make me happy."

Leo sneered. "Happy? She finally chose her own path then loses it inside a week. _That_ makes you—"

"She free, Leonardo. Free to be where or what or with _who_ she want."

Slowly, the Jonin's head shook. "I won't ask that of her."

"You must."

"I can't."

"Coyo no longer chief."

"But her family is here. Huitzi. You. Yo. Hell, even Tlaloc. I won't take that from her."

"Ayotl take nothing. We give."

"It isn't your place to—"

Izel stepped forward to snatch the totem off Leonardo's neck. "I no watch her heart shatter again, selfish coward!" she screamed, red-faced. Mikey gapped and pulled Raph back when the skinhead glared up at the Jonin. "You no hear sobs, feel her curled, shaking. You no see her _die_ inside!"

"Izel—"

"I rather she happy in another world than see her wither."

"You're her sister."

"It is because we sisters I want her happy."

' _Wow._ ' Mike released the air he hadn't realized he held until Izel stepped away. ' _Someone ships Leo/Coyo hard._ '

"I can't ask someone to leave everything they know behind." Leo sounded close to tears, his frame unsteady.

"That's love, Bro," Mikey added. He shared a smile with the skinhead, who returned the totem.

The way Leo accepted it lead the jokester to believe it meant something profound. "I shouldn't," he said.

"Gotta agree with the chick on this one, Fearless."

"Raph?"

"Look. We ain't takin' ya home if ya're gunna mope for anoddah reason."

Mike nodded. "We all have someone. Why not you?"

"Guys," Leo trailed off with a groan.

"Huitzi agrees."

Rigid, the Jonin met Don's frown. "He does?"

"He's the one who mentioned we should talk sense inta ya," Raphy said. "In a way."

"Am I the only one who sees what's wrong?"

"You have support," whispered Izel. "Consider what you want. It what Coyo want. More than life. More than K'ekchi. Make her happy. Please."

For a long time, Leo thumbed the totem, hut noise quieting and air still like his breaths. Then he smiled as if the whole world made sense.


	41. Release

**A/N:** I can't believe we're here, ya'll. Only one chapter and an epilogue left. _Sciencegal_ and _DuckiePray_ , thanks so much for the consistent support! I luv you. ; u;

* * *

 **CHAPTER 36:** **RELEASE**

The moon above Huelihca became Coyolxauhqui's focus, anything to avoid the red-brown eyes that would weaken her.

"Coyo," Leonardo started in English, "you came." The woman remained fixed on the tree's extended roots, and the turtle-man sighed. "Uh, Xander wanted me to tell you—"

"Sorry. Coyo know; Leo already say."

"Oh, dinner, right. Well then... _I_ was worried we wouldn't get this chance, so thank you."

Thank you? Coyo half-laughed. Truth be told, she was tired: tired from heartbreak, war, and an insistent voice inside claiming Leo might not leave after all. And she had neither the will nor energy to lift her head when he joined her.

"Leo mean for more pain?" she asked over the ocean rhythm. "If he say goodbye again…" The woman shuddered. Ometeotl, why did she come? It was her own fault, led by curiosity and slim hope. But now her fear faced her like a charging pitzol. "To leave in silence less cruel," she added. "Asking Coyo here?"

"This isn't without reason. Trust me."

More than anything, Coyo wanted to. Leo complicated matters, though, when he had chilled his voice then left her to sob in Ilnahio.

"Coyo"—Leo struggled for both words and a steady tone—"I meant everything I said before I...left. You want me to stay, but my brothers need me. They came all the way here because they do."

"Leo lucky he has loving brothers."

"You could stand to say that with a little more feeling."

"Okay." Coyo stood up. "Leo lucky to has loving brothers."

"That's not what I—" Leo cut himself off with a chuckle then pulled the woman back into her seat by the wrist. She made the mistake of meeting his smile when her butt hit the root, and her chest swelled as she fought to look away. "We share Mozallo, Coyo. What do you feel through it?"

Longing. Warped happiness. Frustration. And a want to hold her. The woman swallowed hard, watching Leo's gaze linger on her lips.

"Saying goodbye was the hardest moment in my life," the turtle-man continued. "Worse than rotting in Black Lotus, or remembering the Summers, or Mikey. Seeing you harmed put all that pain to shame, and knowing I caused it made me feel lower than scum. You think it didn't bother me? That you were the _only_ one who cared or cried?"

Sensations invaded Coyo's mind: streaks of darkness, buckled legs, and palms soaked not from a rainstorm, but from her eyes, Leo's eyes.

Still smiling, the turtle-man rested a hand along the woman's collarbone. "I felt incomplete without you."

He would admit that now? Of all times? Coyo wanted to forsake his touch yet his calloused fingertips electrified her skin.

"When I saw the smoke," he continued in Nahuatl, "my first thought was how I could live in a world without you in it. The only peace I had came from knowing you were safe and how quickly that changed made me realize I could _never_ be comfortable without being there to protect you myself."

"Leo?" Coyo stopped herself; she dared not ask if he meant what she hoped.

"I cannot leave my clan." The hope imploded into stinging eyes and a sinking stomach. "But things are different with you, right? The Pesto Tribe. They have taken the K'ekchi under their protection at a price."

The price being Coyolxauhqui's title. He knew that. Everyone did. So what?

"Y—you are no longer their leader," added Leo. "You...no longer need to stay."

"Co—Coyo does not under—"

"Come with me to New York."

The woman licked her dry lips, breathless. "What?"

"You have dealt with my selfishness a long time. And I am selfish now, too. But if I walk away without saying the things I really want, I will be a salve again. Every step to recovery that you led me through would be for naught. And my depression would return."

"You want Coyo…"

"It is a lot."

"A city?"

The turtle-man's smile sobered. "It will be a culture shock. Probably unnerving or horrible. Or maybe you will grow to like it, at least. Even love it like I do. It is a chance I want you to take."

"But," Coyo recalled New York City. It was filled with loud noises, rude people, a starless sky, and air thickened by everything except water. There were few trees, even fewer animals, and him: Leonardo.

"I have considered asking this for months. I held back because a change like that could hurt you. Believe it or not, Izel and Huitzi are the ones who convinced me."

Her brother and sister? Really?

Leo nodded. "Izel yelled. Said she would rather you be happy in another world than watch you wither here."

The woman scoffed, flinching under the fingertips that massaged her neck. She could lie, except wither was a good word to describe any future where she and the turtle-man were separated.

"Coyo"—Leo's voice deepened as Coyo grew rigid—"I never wanted to leave. Without you, life will be half-felt, incomplete, gray. So come with me, live with me, become part of _my_ clan."

Something near-weightless and coarse fell into Coyolxauhqui's hold. When Leonardo wrapped his fingers around her hand, she had no need to neither peek at the object nor question its purpose.

"Your Monamictia," she whispered.

Leo tightened his grip, one hand pressed on the totem that the woman drew against her chest, the other cupping the base of her skull. "I offered this once when I was ignorant of what it stood for. Tonight, I give it _because_ of what it stands for."

Coyo choked on words, tears, and bile. She could not possibly agree. Could she? She would be taken from all she has ever known: Eztaca, the rainforest, the K'ekchi, the Teo. Her brother would die in her absence while Izel would grow old without support. How could they convince Leonardo to propose when they knew that?

"They love you, Coyo," said Leo. "They want you to be as free and happy as I do."

And happiness meant following Leonardo—no matter what. The woman unclenched her hand with staggered breaths. Inside it, the Tecolotl totem laid, malformed yet beautiful. When she slipped the necklace over her head, the turtle-man helped pull wild curls away from its string and grinned.

"Does this mean yes?" he asked in English.

"Can"—Coyo's voice broke—"Yo come?"

"Of course, of course. Our home is pet-friendly. Anything he needs, you can find at a store. It is New York, so…" Leo hesitated to touch Coyo, his smile dimming. "You sure? This is the only way we can…"

The woman gave a slow nod. "Coyo's tribe grants her this wish. She is sad and grateful. Leonardo." She mirrored the turtle-man's smile. "Nee-meetz-tlah-zoh-tla."

Waves crashed along the cliff base as Leonardo leaned in close. He slipped both arms around Coyolxauhqui's waist then placed his forehead on hers. The sensation overwhelmed her; it raised hairs on her body, stole oxygen from her lugs, sent tingles down her abdomen—all before the turtle-man met her lips.

"I love you, too," he whispered along her cheek.

His breath teased her nerves, igniting them as his mouth trailed towards hers with painstaking slowness. The way he pressed her body against his front-shell gave rise to the raw emotions the two they had spent months suppressing, and Coyo's ears pounded louder than the ocean current while he kissed her with aching desire.

* * *

Once, Leonardo had used the sunset as therapy. Today, he watched it with new purpose. It represented how the mutant had not only survived—but lived—another day. That thought left him feeling as if he had regained some childhood optimism.

"Will you miss it?"

Leo kept his eyes on the pink sky as gales swept across the hillside outside K'ekchi Village's ruins. "Yeah," he told Joseph. "But it's time."

"It's okay, you know?" Joseph chuckled, drawing Leo's attention. The Chinese man stood without the need of a crutch because his withered leg was whole. "Death can't be beaten, Leonardo. Mortality is what makes life precious. Which is why you shouldn't dwell on tragedies that were never in your control."

Deep down, a piece of Leo knew that. Generally, the piece manifested as Joseph, even if Leo's paranoia, Donald, often silenced his wisdom.

"You can move on," Joseph continued.

"I'm trying," Leo answered.

"And succeeding. You've let some great people into your life. Now you're marrying one."

"Still sounds odd. Not sure if it's reality lagging or the fact that Izel and Mikey insist the Elders marry us tonight. I _just_ proposed."

"I think a wedding is a fitting end for your chapter in this tribe."

"Guess so. Besides, we'll never get another opportunity like this. To wed, I mean. Not in New York. Not in our society. Not unless something big changes."

Joseph hummed. "Seize this chance. You deserve a bright future. We aren't unhappy or suffering. Great thing about being dead is we can wait forever to see loved ones again. And some of us needn't wait at all."

Leo looked towards were Joseph jutted his chin. A curly-haired woman kneeled on the hill's base. Abigail? The mutant could hardly believe it. She grinned, her onyx skin free of ulcers or scars. Both her arms—not just one—outstretched as a toddler raced to her. She caught the little girl with kisses and tears, cooing words that the wind silenced.

"Wouldn't you count that as a happy ending?" Joseph asked.

Abigail's laughter answered in Leo's stead. He had no idea if her true laugh resembled girlish glee, but anything sounded better the whimpers he remembered falling asleep to. The woman glanced up, grinning at the mutant, and then scooped the toddler up. She walked with uprightness and ease into the rainforest, which made Leo smile.

"I admit, I want nothing more than to hold Terry's and Jasmine's hands," added Joseph. The Chinese man glanced downwards then the sunset. "But I also hope, for them, decades pass before they see me. I hope they meet partners who give them children, who they'll love as strongly as I do. I hope they live long, happy lives. Could you do me a favor?"

Meeting Joseph's dark gaze, Leo waited for the man to elaborate.

"Check in on them from time-to-time?" Joseph asked. "They don't have to know you exist. Just make sure they're safe. And, if you can, maybe…tell them how much I love and miss them. Everything I did was for their future. I would never, _ever_ abandon them. Don't let Terry think that. Let them know I believe they're strong enough to do the same for those they love, especially each other. Can you do that?"

Leo's throat felt tight when he brought his chin down in a nod. Considering how he had already teased the idea of visiting Rupert, Paige, and Quill, leaving a note for a couple kids seemed feasible.

"I'd like to lay some chips down on that offer," a new voice said. An old man came to a halt by Leonardo's free side. He flashed a smile that hid his eyes in deep, wrinkly sockets.

"Chandler?" Leo asked. "You look…"

"Healthy?" Chandler snorted. "Funny, eh? I'm more alive in death than I ever felt or looked before."

True. While Leo had seen Chandler only once in Hall-F, the human's cracked, boil-riddled skin and malformed teeth had left an impactful imagine.

"Remember the story I told you before I died?" asked Chandler.

"Yeah," Leo replied.

"I'd wager it's a lost cause, but…contact my brother. I'd like my nephew to mature without thinking of me as his unapologetic, High Roller uncle who destroyed his future. I was egotistical. An asshole that didn't deserve the forgiveness he was asking for. And I sucked at gambling."

"I—I don't even know your last name, Chandler."

"Guess that's a little hard to remember when you got a punk as loud as Donald calling me 'old man'." The elderly man shook his head and sniggered. "Ask Gray for details."

Leo sighed at the cyborg's name.

"She's your brother's girl," added Chandler. His brows rose, a perfect smile peeking from below his mustache. "You'll need to reconcile."

The mutant sucked his teeth, saying, "I know."

"If Gray is apologetic," Joseph interjected, "maybe you both can do that through these notes and visits."

Leo sent the Chinese man a sidelong glance.

Of course, Joseph knew what thoughts entered the mutant's mind, and said, "You've been mauling over a solution for Donny's sake. It may be awkward, but your clan has grown. It's time you made sure _all_ its members fit."

"You can do that," added Chandler. "You're strong enough now."

"Oi, Leo!" Michelangelo's voice broke Leonardo's concentration. Along the scorched slope, the youngest, Raphael, and Donatello stood, waving.

"What are ya doin'?" Raph yelled uphill.

Leo glanced at his sides. Joseph and Chandler were no longer visible, but when he looked down at his brothers, he saw three shadows in the tree line behind them. The figures lingered before their dead faces faded, and for once, Leo didn't fear their return.

"This is yer damn weddin', Fearless! Ya wanna do it tribal-style, do it!"

Leo countered his brothers' stares with a lopsided smile as he met them at the hill's base. "Huitzi send you?" he asked.

"Yes," Donatello answered.

"He seemed perturbed," added Mikey. "Mentioned something about ribbons, ceremonial Chicha, and a headdress you're supposed to wear."

"Guess a headdress is better than a loincloth," Leo said.

"Oh, loincloths are involved, too. Really long ones. And ponchos. I tried 'em on."

"The Shaman was unhappy," Don concluded.

Leo couldn't help snickering at the thought, even when Raph made a face.

"Ya look like a grinnin' dumbass," the hothead told him.

"He can look like a dumbass all he wants," Mikey interjected. The nunchaku master wrapped an arm around his eldest brother's shoulders then threw his head back. "Our big bro's getting married. Look how happy he is."

"Stop."

Leo punched Mikey in the shoulder when the youngest pinched his cheeks but kept smiling as Mikey continued, "Congrats, Dude. Really."

"About time ya grew some balls 'n went after somethin' ya wanted," Raph added.

"Funny," Leo said, listless.

"He makes a point, somewhat," added Don. "You deserve happiness. And if Coyo's done half as much for you as you say she has then that over-qualifies her as your wife."

Mikey nodded, saying, "I'm just bummed everyone else can't be here."

"We'll have to make up for that then, won't we?" Leo questioned. "Come on. Let's get back before Huitzi sends Tlaloc. Or worse, Izel."

Perhaps Leo's brothers thought his laughter odd. What did it matter? He was finally free, reborn. The release felt empowering and left him eager to declare how badly he needed Coyolxauhqui at his side—for better or worse, in sickness and health, through life and death, no matter where in the universe they found themselves.


	42. Home

**A/N:** Final, full chapter.

 _Sciencegal_ \- Everything comes full circle. Mostly. 3

 _musicluvr_ \- Wish granted!

 _DuckiePray_ \- Love is funny that way, am I right? For everything those two have given up, I think they deserve to be selfish this time. And no way was Izel, Nenetl, and Huitzi letting Coyo leave without seeing her wed. That's, like, their dream, LOL.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 37:** **HOME**

Standing beside her husband felt strange enough, let alone standing in line with his brothers and sister—a physical representation that Coyolxauhqui had left the K'ekchi Tribe for the Hamato Tribe.

"This is it," she said in Nahuatl.

Izel approached with Tlaloc, Nenetl, and Huitzilopochtli behind her. "It is okay," she told her friend. How many times must she say that?

Coyo added, "The Pesto Chief has promised you can still serve Ometeotl. They also know of the Teo. They respect our traditions and—"

"They will help. We will survive." Izel grinned, blue lips parted by yellowed teeth. She cradled her best friend's face and was careful not to harm the Cochotl nestled in a sling across Coyo's chest. "You have done the remarkable," she continued. "You ended a war. Convinced not only a rival tribe to save us but a Yaoqui to fight _for_ us. Above all, you led the K'ekchi _your_ way. That is more than enough."

"Bu—but"—Coyo sniffled—"you are broken, and I am—"

Izel rocked her forehead against Coyo's. "You have done all you need. You are free. And I cannot be happier for you, Teueltiuh."

"Protect her, Ayotl," Tlaloc said in English. When Izel parted, Coyo saw her wipe away tears and send the warrior a look. He ignored the skinhead, though, bright eyes set on Leonardo.

"With my life," Leo replied.

"Coyo, Teicu." Huitzi smiled when his sister faced him. "Ma xipahtinemi."

"Ma xipahtinemi, Teachcauh," she replied. She would say nothing of how sorry she was to miss his passing away; he had persisted before the wedding that she watched too many family members die already.

"Know what sucks?" Michelangelo asked.

"Sucks?" Coyo questioned.

"Yeah, sucks. Know what does?"

The woman's brows furrowed. "Is trick question? Does not suck mean, uh—oh! 'Suck' is slang." Coyo puffed up in triumph and the orange-masked turtle-man double over from laughter.

"Oh my gosh," he wheezed. "Leo, Dude, you're wife is gunna be a riot."

Riot? Was that more slang?

"Dudette," Mikey told Coyo, "I mean it bites that we never got to see the Languu. We come all this way, and they hide."

"Leo explained that," Donatello said. "If you listened, maybe you wouldn't be complaining."

"Yeah, but, we would've at least seen—what was her name? Zatarain?"

"Zaddir," Leo corrected.

"Yeah, her. Nia's aunt. Ish."

"She faces the same issues as the other Quizzinteyo, Mikey. They were never sociable anyway."

"Still."

"Maybe you'll meet her another day. For now—"

Mikey waved a hand then rested an arm on his girl's shoulders. "We have a long trip. Yaddah, yaddah. Let's just hope Hoshi's screaming every five seconds won't delay us too long."

The yellow-haired girl snorted. "That was you, Figo. Crying over spiders."

"They were the size of my head."

"They were non-aggressive."

"Says you!"

Coyo smiled at the couple, saying, "Soap right."

The Hamatos froze as Soap faced Coyo. "Scusa?" she asked.

"Tlen?"

"What did you call me?"

"Name. So-pee-ah. Mikey call you Soap."

"No, no, no. My name is Sophia. So-fee-ah."

"So—soh—"

"So-fee-ah."

"So"—the syllables stuck like phlegm in Coyo's throat—"so-pee-ah."

"So-fee-ah!"

"That road will lead nowhere, Sophia," Leo interjected. He half-smirked when the yellow-haired girl growled at him. "Trust me."

How were roads related to names? ' _I can feel it; his whole world will confuse me._ ' Such would be her sacrifice, right? The woman exhaled, giving her people one last cursory glance. They smiled, from the most advanced Elder to the littlest child, and their support stung her eyes.

"Timo-itazke," she said.

"Timo-itazke," they repeated.

"May Ometeotl bless your home," Nenetl said in Nahuatl, head bowed.

"Your marriage," Hutzi added.

"And your womb," Izel followed up with a wink.

Huitzi shoved her shoulder, but the hope in his expression could not be denied. Honestly, Coyo prayed she could be as lucky as her cousin and lingered on the idea of children as she and her husband left the village side-by-side.

* * *

Sharp pains dug into Leonardo's bicep, but he let Coyolxauhqui cling to him as hard as she wanted. The poor woman had never flown before, and the cargo hold was hardly the safest spot on a plane.

"I ain't fond 'a flyin' either,' Raphael said. Even though he glanced over the suitcases and crates that hid the group, he had obviously spoken to Coyo.

The tribeswoman wiggled her fingers, yet kept quiet, watching Yolotli sleep in his sling bed.

"Calmati," Sophia said from beside the hothead. "We have a higher chance of being struck by lightning twice, Defi."

"Turtle Luck don't give a shit about odds, Pink. An' stop callin' me that."

"Only if you train Coyo not to call me Soap."

"Easy, guys," Michelangelo interjected. He chuckled then pulled his girlfriend close when a sudden rumble vibrated the hold.

Leonardo heard his wife inhale sharply as the plane's engines charged, and he smiled at her wide eyes. "It's normal," he told her.

She nodded, licking her lips.

"This is really happenin'," said Raph. His voice was muffled by the idling engine as his gaze fell on his older brother. "Ya ready for this, Man?"

"Home has changed," Mikey added. "It's not even the Lair anymore. It's Saisei. And you're gunna have one hell of a welcome home bash."

"Yeah." Donatello sounded winded at Leo's other side. "With over, like, twenty people at least. Casey included."

"An' his kid." Head shaking, Raph scoffed. "Still can't believe that shit."

"You couldn't squeeze any more details outta Nia?" asked Mikey.

Raph flashed a look. "We were about ta board. Besides, I was preoccupied."

"Right." Mikey's pout morphed into an impish grin. "By asking things like 'How are my girls? Are they any bigger? Do they miss Daddy?'"

"If ya like yer ugly mug the way it is, stop talkin'." Raph rose part-way from his seat until Leo's head shook.

"Knock it off, Mikey," the Jonin said. "Raph has every right to want to hear about his"—the word felt odd—"daughters."

"I know, Bro. It's just fun to watch the troll blush."

"I ain't blushin'. Or a troll."

"I know a little girl who'd claim otherwise."

"Speaking of," Don started. When he earned everyone's attention, he raised his voice over the rumbling plane. "We're returning to a lot of insanities. Including Mel." The genius twisted a silver bracelet around his left wrist, thumbing its engravings. "She'll be there. And Sven. On the outskirts, but…"

"She isn't bad." Mikey flailed his arms as he spoke, almost hitting his girlfriend in the face. "She's done so much while you were away. Like, deliver our nieces. Help get funding for Saisei. Hell, she almost blew herself up with _fireworks_ trying to get Sensei medicine."

"I resented her stay, too," added Raph. "But Gray's saved our lives on multiple accounts. So have Sven an'—" The hothead cut himself short with a sour look.

"What the cyborgs did at Black Lotus was awful," Mikey said, solemn. "Still, Tabitha didn't deserve to die like that."

Leo agreed, as strange as it seemed. Perhaps he could accept the idea more readily since the flying cyborg sacrificed herself? What purer proof was there of someone's conviction to change?

"They're just screwed up, Bro," Raph said. "Like the rest 'a us."

Mikey nodded. "She and you can be a lot alike, actually. Common ground shouldn't be that hard to find."

"Seems like a necessary step, huh?" Leo questioned. His hand covered Coyo's, squeezing it. "I can't ask acceptance for Coyo and not offer the same courtesy. That'd be unfair."

The Hamatos chuckled. Leo admitted it felt good to think about fairness again without bad memories weighing him down. Guess his brothers felt likewise, according to their smiles.

"Ow!" Leonardo looked at his wife, who buried her face in his arm. She shook more from fear than from the plane's movements, and when the engine's whine increased, so did the gravitational pull towards the plane's tail. "Want to get off?" he asked in Nahuatl. It was a jest, except part of him feared she'd accept the offer.

"I—I have bound myself to you; I will follow," Coyolxauhqui replied. Her Nahuatl sounded strained, possibly due to the grin she forced. "Many things will frighten me in your world, will they not?"

"Probably. Just remember: machines are not monsters nor magic."

"Uh, scusa, Capo." Sophia sent a hard stare across the cargo hold, hands gesturing outwards. "If I'm limited on Italian, you're limited on tribal talk."

"It's called Nahuatl," Leo said. "And as clan leader, I can speak whatever language I want."

Raph snorted as Sophia's freckled face scrunched. "He is _not_ pulling that card, Figo."

"Chill, Hoshi. He has a point. Besides, we only have the Italian rule 'cuz…" The orange-masked Chunin trailed off under his girlfriend's glare.

"Because?" she goaded.

"If it's all the same to you," stated Don, "I'd rather not spend our next few hours arguing that point."

"Who says it'd take hours, Genio?"

"Everyone knows how stubborn you are," Mikey said over Sophia's huff. "Moving on. Coyo. As Leo's brothers, we give you props."

"Props?" the tribeswoman echoed.

"Yeah, ya know. Credit? Brownie points? You're making a crazy sacrifice."

"All for this guy?" asked Raph, pointing at Leo.

"Now that's love," finished Donny with a chuckle.

Raph shrugged. "Or psychosis."

Leo pursed his lips as Mikey continued, "She'll need a little crazy to survive us, though. I mean, really. Five mutants, a half-alien, and a cyborg? We sound like the start of a joke."

"Don't forget the little superhuman who'll be giving Coyo a run for her money."

Leo met Don's eyes. "Has Kaiya wanted to see me that badly?"

"You have no idea," the brothers answered in unison.

The plane engines drowned out anything else they had to say with a low-pitch roar. Leo snaked his arm around Coyo, holding firm while the plane sped up. They slid across the floor slightly before the wheels rose from the runway, but Leo knew his sunken stomach had nothing to do with the takeoff.

He realized the trip was real. His brothers were with him, his wife beside him. And he was heading for New York, where his clan had transformed into something grander than he had ever imagined.

* * *

Saisei teemed with anticipation matched only once by the arrival of Selene and Nyx. Hamato Splinter had spent the last hour watching others race to finish last-minute touches on party décor and even longer making occasional eye contact with the cyborgs who lingered at the stairwell's top platform.

"Your Aunt Melody sure is nervous," the old rat told his granddaughters. The tiny hybrids kicked their legs into his stomach; they often did when they heard their grandfather's voice. "So excitable. Such your father's children."

Nyx grunted, lips puckered. Yes, very much like Raphael.

"Mi—mister Splinter?"

"Hum?" Splinter's head turned to where Kaiya stood. In the background, Shadow and Megan played with Jennifer overseeing them, and the blonde mother sent Splinter a soft look when he spoke again. "What is wrong, Kaiya-chan?"

The child tugged at the ends of her curly hair.

"Are you hungry?" the master added. "By now, Adeline-san and Marina-san must have cooked everything in the fridge. Who knows what they are making, but it smells delicious. Surely they have enough to spare while we wait."

"Not hungry," Kaiya said, bland.

"Then what troubles you."

The child glanced over her shoulder, and Jennifer nodded. "Is—is Mister Leonardo really coming back?" she whispered.

Splinter braced his arms on each side of the twins so they would not fall when he twisted towards Kaiya. "Yes, Child. He is."

"An—and he'll want to see me? I won't"—the girl hiccupped—"won't make him sad?"

"Why would you sadden him, Kaiya-chan?"

"Because I was in the bad place, too. Isn't that why Miss Melody hides?"

Splinter followed Kaiya's eyes up the stairs. He caught glimpses of red and orange lights before they disappeared. He wished that had not been the case; he wanted the cyborgs to hear what he had to say as much as he wanted Kaiya to.

"Listen, young one," he started, "you do not need me or your parents or Doctor Vigue to tell you what a harrowing experience you endured. As much as it scarred, it also drew others together through the turmoil. Like with Greeves-san and Brooks-san. You, Rupurt-san, and Leonardo share a bond. He will care for you outside that prison as much as he did in it."

"Really?" the little blonde croaked.

"Hai. But be patient, I beg. He has not been in the city for a long time."

"The text is in, they're coming up the driveway!" April screamed.

The twins jolted in Splinter's lap, one whining loudly and the other silently. Their slender chests puffed with anxiety and the grandfather rubbed their stomachs until Mia and Adeline usurped them.

"You will have your paws full in a minute," Mia told him.

Splinter nodded when she settled Selene along her wheelchair's armrest then stood from his recliner as she joined a cluster of people around the front door. They clamored for the best positions under a home-made banner, quieting the moment the doorknob rattled. As soon as Leonardo stepped across the threshold, their voices returned with a unanimous greeting. Leonardo stood, gapping, and Nia embraced his neck in a hug that made her feet dangle.

"Leo-onīsan," she said through sniffles. She let her feet meet the floor then stared up at the Jonin's shocked expression. "Okaeri."

"N—Nia?" he asked. His eyes glossed her over, lingering on her short hair and face. "Um, wow. You're, uh, different. In—in a good way, I mean. This is—I…Wow."

"Overwhelming, huh?" Nia gave a sheepish shrug as she stepped back. "Not me. E—e—everything else. Right?"

Leonardo nodded as he glanced around the occupied living room. He chuckled, likely in an attempt to keep focused. Who could blame him? Last he had seen Mia, she was in a coma. And Gavin was more reclusive. Then there was Adeline, whose face he had never seen before. Not to mention the twins and recently-introduced Shadow Jones. On top of the entire Reese and Williams families.

"This is—"

"Unbelievable?"

Leo sent Nia an awkward smile. "A little. I don't—there's so much. I—I—I don't know where to start."

"How about with your father?"

All attention fell on Splinter. The master approached with a gnarled cane that he used more as an accessory than a necessity, and it clanked against the concrete floor as his chest swelled with pride. Before him stood a changed mutant. The Jonin did not slouch nor stare aside or sigh. He stood with a straight back and certain gaze. He looked young again, like the hopeful ninja Splinter had raised to protect his brothers, yet at the same time more matured, tempered by some unknown force. Could that have anything to do with the 'surprise' Michelangelo and Raphael had spoken of during their last phone call?

"Otōsan," Leonardo said, "tadaima." His voice was broken and brought a smile to Splinter's snout. The father sensed it; the phrase meant his son was home in more ways than one.

"O—Okaeri," Splinter replied.

Then, his façade collapsed. Any tears he had once fought broke free when his arms wrapped around the bridges of Leo's carapace, and the Jonin fell on his knees, returning the hug with an equal amount of tears and laughter.


	43. Epilogue

**A/N:** O-oh my gosh. Is this - could it be? The END? Dun, dun, duuuuuun!

* * *

 **EPILOGUE**

Leonardo found it unfathomable how such frail-looking creatures could represent the future. His whole life, he'd barely given the idea of a wife any thought. Forget children. Yet here two laid: his nieces who defied all probability and odds. They slumbered inside their pack-and-play, cuddling one another with four-fingered hands. Just listening to their breaths stirred emotion inside the Jonin.

"Dude," Raphael said, "ya cryin'?"

Leo rocked his chin along the pack-and-play's top rail, not bothering to clean his face. "They're incredible," he said.

"Yeah, Ni did a pretty good job."

"You too, I think."

"Aw, shucks, Fearless."

The Jonin chuckled and shifted. He felt Kaiya's weight on his leg lift then return as the child resumed sleeping.

"That kid acts like ya're the damn savior 'a the universe," Raph continued.

"She's the reason I hung on so long. I'd say she's the savior." Leo ran his fingers through Kai's curls with a weak smile. The girl hadn't let the Jonin out of her sight, which had caused some issues with Coyolxauhqui throughout the party. Not because the tribeswoman had been jealous, but because Leo had been her only source of familiarity at Saisei when everyone wanted to meet her. "We gotta be stronger," Leo added. "If our clan is growing, if we have children…"

"No more kids on my part." The hothead sounded near frightened. "At least for a while. I just got these two."

The Jonin snorted into his bicep, noting how nervously his brother gazed at the hybrids. "They're our top priority." All humor left Leo when he dried his tears and met Raph's gaze. "If these girls will be living in New York, it's more important now than ever to make sure it's safe. Below. And above."

Slowly, as if to test his older brother's intent, Raph smirked. "Does this mean we finally get ta kick ass again?"

"As a team."

"My favorite way ta kick it."

Leonardo had no reason to scold Raphael for the way he beat a fist in his palm. Instead, he straightened his posture with every ounce of determination that filled his muscles and voice, saying, "It's time we took back our city."

* * *

Of all the things Agent Bishop had to maintain in his career, fake cheer was the hardest, and his guise always dropped whenever he turned his back to a camera or Commissioner Powell.

"Sir? Uh, Sir!"

Bishop gave a long-suffering sigh, facing a stout gentleman who dashed down a hallway in EPF Headquarters. "Doctor Gaertner," he addressed. "What now?"

Gaertner huffed and stared up at his boss through rectangular glasses. "The interview," he panted.

"What about it?"

"Yo—you went through with it?"

"Of course."

"You told them?"

"I told what was needed to keep our organization looking progressive."

"But the stone—it—we—we've hardly scratched the surface of its capabilities. The Disrupter—"

Bishop sneered. "Failed. On two accounts. Yes."

"So why would you...?"

"Gaertner"—the agent's sneer morphed into a snide grin—"by all accounts, the stone has slingshot our interests forward. Ecuador's disaster isn't attributed to a lack of knowledge. Rook reported Leonardo's involvement months ago and asked for backup before his facility flooded. However, Rodgers credited the mess to Hyde's...revelation."

"A psychic," the doctor whispered.

"A plague, proof the screening stage requires an extra level of security."

"So you mentioned. But Baxter and I helped design the Disrupter. The stone has no effect on—"

"Not yet. You're smart doctor. Or you're _supposed_ to be." Bishop felt his sunglasses slip down his nose and he glared down at Gaertner so closely, he could see sweat glisten off the doctor's balding skull.

"I understand the concept," said Gaertner. "The stone gets us closer to Project Blackout."

"Only Languu we have left. Native scum."

"Manipulating the IgRs how you want, though. Enhancing the cyborg? Tracking hybrids through genetics? Completing Project Demigod? Feats like that are _years_ beyond our capabilities. We've only recently formulated a serum to stabilize Yahna and Boisvert's latest work. Which, I might add, has teetered disturbingly along inhuman standards."

"Salvation requires sacrifice. If I must create a few monsters to flush out more dangerous ones, so be it. Least these ones are in our control."

"To ensure EPF demand." Gaertner's objection didn't go unnoticed.

"A distasteful yet necessary tactic, Doctor. Earth's people are like children unaware of what dangers their parents attempt to shield them from. I plan on exposing those dangers, starting with this city."

"By parading around the fact that we can weed out 'true' humans from 'false' ones? Who will waltz up to HQ under those pretenses?"

"As I told local news, the test is voluntary. It causes no harm. Offers a piece of mind. Participants are well compensated for their time, as well."

"Bribed with IgR booster shots."

"A cleanse. FDA-approved. Nothing permanent or radical, though they should leave buzzed." The doctor sighed as Bishop chuckled, yet kept silent while his boss regained composure. "Give it time, Doctor. Before long, it won't be a matter of who claimed their humanity so much as who _hasn't_ claimed it. The masses will contribute, to prove their worth to their community. Our influence in the NYPD will become seamless. Our research will blossom with sufficient funding. And I can wait years, decades even."

"For?"

"Revolution, Doctor. Revolution."

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, I DID leave you there. You're welcome.

Thanks, everyone, for coming on this journey. _D_ and new-comer _musicluvr86_ for the faithful support. _DuckiePray_ and _Sciencegal_ for insisting I stick with this beast - no matter how many times I wanted to curl in a corner and burn it. My best friend and her mother for helping me with Peurto Rican and Mexican slang/curses. And all those who favorited, watched, and read my Saga.

So, this is the end of what I consider "Phase 1". "Phase 2" consists mostly of extras and smaller books, which are now shifting in content and timelines. Keep on the lookout for these future adventures! :D


End file.
